


The Long Haul - Ficlets, mini- and micro-fics

by Leni



Series: The Long Haul [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 26,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Rumpelstiltskin introduced his student to his maid...</p><p>I've decided to post the smaller ficlets here. </p><p>Link to Masterlist: <a href="http://leni-ba.tumblr.com/post/148190144703/the-long-haul-masterlist">Tumblr</a> (in chronological order).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. FTL. Rumpelstiltskin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tigriswolf at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/634515.html?thread=86628499#t86628499). Prompt: **[pronoun] wants to say no; [pronoun] doesn’t**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumpelstiltskin's pov on having a girl in the Dark Castle

Rumpelstiltskin had only started to pay attention to the girl the moment she deviated from the script. Until then, she had been the weakness of the fool who'd called for the Dark One and hadn't even the riches to pay for his help. A pretty thing, he supposed. But most importantly, the perfect piece to play in this room of men who automatically arranged themselves to shield her.

Of course he'd asked for her.

He was Rumpelstiltskin, and Rumpelstiltskin always asked for an impossible price. 

Of course she had been supposed to faint at the offer, or at least tremble in fear as she hid herself behind that looming hulk of armor who'd called himself her promised.

But the little lady had done none of that. Instead she had come forward, bound herself to Rumpelstiltskin's service, and in that same breath she had almost made the Dark One look the fool. Because he had _not_ expected to get her so easily, with no more an effort than a few words on his first visit. The father should have played up to the insult offered, refused the help his town so dearly needed and shouted that his daughter was not a sacrifice to be thrown at the likes of him. And the lady should have claimed that she'd rather bury a sword in her chest than go with him as nothing but a servant.

The honor of the nobles was such a sensitive creature. Let the blood run, hear the cries of the widows and the crunch of bones in the night. But keep their pride intact. Fools, the lot of them! Rumpelstiltskin had offered this same deal dozens of times, and dozens of times it had played out in the same manner. The Dark One was sent back empty-handed, hearing nothing but protests and insults before he left.

His answer had always been the same: grin at them, make a bow... and leave them to the ogres. Waited until word spread to the town outside the war room, to the grieving and the hungry, to the people terrified of the monsters beating down their thin defenses. Peasants cared about the pride of their betters in times of peace, but when they stood as fodder with nowhere to run?

Rumpelstiltskin knew that even the lowliest man took matters in his own hands when there was no hope. They broke into great castles. They made weapons out of thin air, and pointed them at those in power. Rebellion was in even the tamest of hearts, and all it took was the threat of horrible death, of their children suffering, to turn it onto action.

Foolish lords. Prideful lords. They deserved to feel the ire of the people they'd failed.

Rumpelstiltskin would have laughed when Maurice's hand was forced. When weeks or months later he was invited back, and oh so politely _offered_ to take the girl.

The look on their faces when he demurred! It always thrilled him. No, no. Thank you, but no. Considered it better. Won't do after all, what's the use of a housekeeper when magic did the job so well? Oh, and good luck with your little war!

It would have been _lovely_.

He could always have gotten rid of the ogres in another year or two. He really couldn't abide their filth for long.

But the girl had accepted his deal. She had defied father and beloved (or not-so-beloved, as he'd find out later), stepped forward, and Rumpelstiltskin had had no choice but to walk away with her.

And even as he'd shoved her into a dark dungeon that night, he'd thought, still a little surprised at the turn of events, _well, and what comes next?_ and when he hadn't found an answer, he'd laughed in sincere amusement for the first time in years.

It had been too long since he'd crossed ways with a true unknown; his sight skipped her, there was no further clue in his visions, and none of the threads he'd spun so diligently in the last years touched her. The girl was nothing, utterly useless in his quest, and yet - and here was her true worth, make no mistake - she had managed to catch him unawares.

In a world he'd already seen end, tumbling into the unexpected was more satisfying than any treasure. He never understood what had stopped her nightly weeping, and the small smiles that fleeted at him mystified him.

A mystery. A riddle. A gift for someone who had planned his life in this realm to the last second.

He would keep her, yes, and unlike the men in her old life, Rumpelstiltskin would never let her slip away.

 

The End  
16/04/16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. This could have fit in canon, but just in case the writers decide to ~~mess with~~ work on this point in the timeline, I'm keeping this version of events for this alternate 'verse.
> 
> Comments are welcome! :)


	2. FTL. Belle & Rumpelstiltskin

"I don't think maids are supposed to read all day."

The Dark One inspired terror with his mere presence. His displeasure was faced only by the boldest or the most foolish, and only a few of them had lived to tell the tale.

The girl on the chair just turned the page and hummed in distracted agreement.

"Maids should be more polite, too," he griped.

Belle placed down a finger to mark the paragraph she'd just been reading, and finally looked up. "Good thing I'm not your maid, then."

"Yes," he said slowly, raising one mocking eyebrow, "Yes, you are."

She stared back at him, and her eyes narrowed a notch. "'Go away, dearie'," she mimicked, "'I don't need you anymore.'" 

"Hmph."

"I may not be as clever with words as the great Rumpelstiltskin," she continued, smiling a little to show that there were no hard feelings, "but it sounds to me like someone fired the help."

He stood still at that, clamping his mouth shut with evident displeasure and making a show of glaring down at her. But a quick glance confirmed that his thumb was rubbing lightly against his forefinger, the one outward sign that she'd caught him unprepared.

The little awkwardness didn't last long. 

"Perhaps I might have said something of the sort," he allowed magnanimously, pitching his voice higher as he often did when about to stress a crucial point in a deal, "and yet, here you are."

"I knocked on the door, you let me in." She met his eye, daring him to give a different spin to her return to the Dark Castle. "That makes me your guest, I believe."

Rumpelstiltskin crinkled his nose at the idea. "The Dark One doesn't play host to little girls."

She didn't contest this description of her. It would be a battle for another day. "A companion, then. Or perhaps... a friend?"

He scowled.

Belle shrugged, not willing to pander to the stubborn creature. He let her stay; that had to be enough for now. "Call me what you like, Rumple," she said, pointedly opening her book again, "but let me read."

His annoyed huff didn't move her, and neither did his muttered complaint about dusty shelves. He retreated noisily, threatening to take back her library if it would only bring him such bother. He fell quiet after that, probably remembering what had happened the time he'd carried out that threat.

Belle bit her lip not to laugh.

Poor Rumpelstiltskin. He was stuck with her, and he was just starting to discover what it meant.

She _would_ pick up her duty as caretaker, Belle promised herself. There were floors that needed washing, and their dinner to see to. Perhaps she'd even prepare one of his favorite meals, not as a peace offering but just because she liked to see him smile.

Yes, she would get up and do her work.

...just as soon as she finished the next chapter.

 

The End  
27/11/15


	3. Belle & Rumpelstiltskin - pre-curse - cooking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chrissykp prompted: Cooking.

"A full kitchen, a maid devoted to my service, and the Dark One is reduced to ham sandwiches." Rumpelstiltskin sighed, looking at the sad proof of another burned meal. "I knew I should have asked for the cook instead," he muttered.

Belle cringed - at the criticism, of course, but mainly at the thought of old Mrs. Potts as housekeeper of the Dark Castle. Likely, instead of inspecting a hastily put together dinner, Rumpelstiltskin would already have moved into another castle and left this one to the old steel-eyed lady.

In a contest between the prickly Dark One and the woman who'd strong-armed the kitchens into working order despite the war beating on their doors, Belle knew where her bets lay.

"What has you snickering, girl?" her master asked snidely, tossing his sandwich back onto his plate.

Belle started shaking her head, but at the mocking arched eyebrow he sported in response, she straightened and met his gaze without fear. "Just that you'd have gotten more than you dealt for, if you'd brought our cook instead."

He chuckled. "But didn't I make a deal I didn't understand anyway?" His eyes ran over her, and then he shook his head. "Here I am, stuck forever with the girl who can't fry an egg without setting fire to my kitchen-"

"That was once only!"

"-and forgets she left the stew in the fire because some silly story was too interesting to pay attention to her duties?"

Aware she was at fault, Belle pressed her lips together. Flicked her eyes away. "I..."

Rumpelstiltskin laughed again. "Oh, relax. It's not like I'll be setting fire to, er, _my_ library in exchange."

"It _is_ yours," Belle was quick to agree. Then, for good measure, added, "I'll make you the bread you like for breakfast. Even you have to admit my baking has improved."

"If you remember to turn the oven off," he responded.

Belle sighed. Because that had already happened as well. Several times. "I am sorry, Rumpelstiltskin. I'm trying to do better, I promise."

He had been opening his mouth, probably to continue the list of her failings as his servant, But her sincere apology managed what little else ever had. Rumpelstiltskin fell quiet, looking thoughtful. "You mean that, don't you?" he said, an inscrutable expression crossing his face before it twisted into a dismissive smile. "Well, then. Do better, dearie; I'll hold you to that."

Then he sighed. "Guess this will have to do in the meanwhile," he grumbled and, with a wave of his hand, a full course appeared on the table.

Belle wrinkled her nose. Magicked food left a lot to be desired.

Rumpelstiltskin snorted at her reaction. "Well, well. I was going to leave the sandwich to you, but if you're going to be picky-" a click of his fingers brought a chair to his right "-I guess you can have your share."

Belle opened her mouth to insist the sandwich would be enough, but Rumpelstiltskin smirked. The plate she'd brought from the kitchen disappeared. If she returned to the kitchen, the bread and ham would be already locked away.

It wasn't the first time her choices were to share a table with Rumpelstiltskin or go to bed hungry.

"If you don't want to eat alone, you could just ask, you know," she said testily as she took a seat.

Rumpelstiltskin acted as if he hadn't heard her.

But he still filled her plate first.

 

The End  
25/11/16


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: getting a cold

Apparently the Dark One could laugh at an arrow stuck through his chest, and slap down the magic of powerful witches with nothing but a bored smirk, but it took one afternoon spent spinning in the common room while his maid read a few feet away to breach his defenses.

"I'm sorry," Belle repeated, looking miserable.

Her nose was still bright red and her eyes a little too bright, her cheeks paler than usual. In normal circumstances he wouldn't have allowed her out of her room, and would have even sent her hot thick soups and plenty of water until she got through the illness, but the girl refused to take to her bed no matter what tempting titles he promised to accompany her, and now that the worst had happened, Rumpelstiltskin just didn't feel like forcing the issue.

Misery loved company, after all.

He fought back another sneeze, annoyed that all his magic couldn't do more than soothe the symptoms. "Well, you should be," he snapped, but vanished the damp handkerchief Belle was holding and replaced it with a silk one from his personal collection. She'd rub her nose raw with coarser fabric, and there was no point in having stolen a beautiful maiden if she didn't stay beautiful. Wouldn't help if she made an habit of dismissing her weaknesses and worked herself to an early grave either; she'd sworn to stay forever, and by the gods, Rumpelstiltskin would make her keep that promise. "Next time you decide to be brave and ignore you're sick," he said, making a strategic pause as she gave a loud wet sniff, "remember silly decisions have consequences too, and _don't_."

 

The End  
27/06/16


	5. pre-curse. Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Not entirely platonic licking

Belle's yelp made Rumpelstiltskin glance up. His maid was muttering words he'd never figured a lady of her standing would learn - and she certainly hadn't learned them in his company! - but the amusement at her surprising vocabulary fled as she turned around, holding up a hand. He started at the tickle of blood running her skin, moving to her side to clasp her wrist and inspect the injury before he was conscious that he'd decided to do so.

"It bit me!" Belle declared, a betrayed thread in her voice. Her other hand pointed at the culprit: a harmless-looking tome bound in leather. There was no title on the cover, so of course it had tempted the curious girl.

Rumpelstiltskin tutted in reproach. "Haven't I told you not to touch anything in my laboratory, unless I give you express permission?"

"But it's a book!"

Definitely betrayed, he thought. The written word had been Belle's greatest ally and best companion during the last years, as it offered some solace in the solitude of her post.

But this book had not been meant for her eyes!

"And it's _in my laboratory_ ," he retorted, more at ease when he understood she was more frightened than hurt. 

On a whim, he peered down into the injury, trying to check the pattern of the needle-like punctures. Impatient with the blood that clouded his view, he leaned down and swept his tongue over her skin, ignoring the sudden silence his action provoked.

Her sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room for a few seconds.

He studiously focused on the revealed 'bite', pretending the girl hadn't tensed up. "Well, well," he murmured.

"Is it poisoned?" she asked in a whisper.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "Oh no. It _likes_ you."

Of course it did. Even a cranky knowledge spell, dormant for centuries and unwilling to reveal its secrets to the most powerful wizard in the realm, was happy to cave in to Belle.

"Likes me?" Her voice rose. "But it bit me!"

He snickered at her affronted tone. "Don't you know, dearie? Any knowledge worth having requires a sacrifice." And hers, spontaneous as it had been, had been happily welcomed. Five little points perfectly spaced into a star formation marked the fleshy mound under her thumb, instead of the series of sharp, shapeless rebuttals he'd healed from his own palm over the past days.

The wounds weren't even very deep, just shallow pinpricks to get the blood flowing. There was no sign of the drops that must have fallen on the book, greedily absorbed to acknowledge its chosen mistress. _It likes you,_ he'd told her; he should have added, _so it wants to keep you bound forever_. He wondered what strange whims linked monsters together, that the taste of her lingered on his tongue as well as it did between those old pages.

"Rumple?"

Her voice dragged him away from that moment of self-awareness.

Blue eyes were looking at him curiously, but he only shook his head. "What shall I do with you, my dear?" he asked, surprised that he meant that.

Belle raised an eyebrow, unafraid as ever. "Give me my hand back, perhaps?"

With a giggle, he let go of her wrist, dipping his head as if he'd acknowledged an order.

The girl smiled back, then, with slow care, turned her hand to inspect her wounds. She made no comment on the smear of blood and saliva marking her, instead curling her fingers to test her range of motion, and winced.

Rumpelstiltskin huffed, passing a hand over her.

She gasped as magic did its work, watching with wide eyes as her skin healed, then looked at him. "And the price?"

He smirked. He'd had students who took longer to understand that magic always demanded something in exchange. "Oh, what about... your eyes!" he said with a trill. His amusement dimmed when she didn't jump in fright. Instead she gave him a chiding glance for the attempt to unsettle her, which grew smug as she worked out his meaning.

"You need me to read that book."

His nose twitched. He told himself it was annoyance that his bit of fun had been spoiled, rather than surprise that his maid caught onto his meaning so quickly.

"Hm. You did distract me from my work," he told her, affecting a put upon air, wagging his finger an inch away from her nose.

Belle seemed amused by his efforts. "I guess it's fair that I stay and help you, then."

He waited for the reluctance in her tone. Instead he was met with a sincere smile. "Fair," he repeated, blinking before he remembered to shrug and scoff. "Call it what you wish, dearie."

She eyed him, the smile never deserting her, and then glanced down at the book that had hurt her. He expected refusal, or anger. Instead there was a brief moment of hesitation... and then she turned to him for reassurance. "It's safe to pick it up now, right?"

Asking the Dark One for safety, indeed!

"Would I be telling you to grab it," he snapped, "if it wasn't?"

He knew he'd given himself away when the girl brightened. "No," she said, putting her hand briefly at his elbow before she grabbed the book and hurried over to the chair that always awaited her in a corner close to the fire. "Of course you wouldn't."

 

The End  
09/10/16


	6. A Bit of Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set pre-curse,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Alias_sd6. Prompt: flower

Not for the first time, Rumpelstiltskin wondered what it would take to pry his maid's attention off a new book. Sometimes he reassured himself that it was that challenge that pushed him to haunt the printing houses across several lands in search for new tomes for the voracious reader he housed.

It was a sad fact, though, that this was a challenge he was meant to lose time and again.

He could imagine the tales that would race across the Enchanted Forest, were someone to peek into the library of the Dark Castle and discover the omnipotent Spinner standing in the room in all his glory... and the girl who wouldn't even glance up to greet his entrance.

His hands twitched with the thought of vanishing the book. But unless it was a real emergency, all that would get him was a glare and a snippy maid for days on end. The girl was sweet, but also stubborn! He would rather take his tea with hot water and crumpets that hadn't been left in the oven for too long _on purpose_.

"Belle?"

She didn't take her eyes off the page she was reading, but managed an absent, "Yes, Rumple?"

"I'll be gone for a few days."

"Hmmm."

He narrowed his eyes at her. She had insisted to know when he was leaving, and to have at least an idea of when he'd come back. Once Rumpelstiltskin decided that she wouldn't use the information to call in an army to steal from him, or just run away at the first chance, he had decided to humor her. 

She could be thankful for it!

Instead she flipped a page, still not paying attention to him.

He couldn't help himself.

"Belle, are you listening to me?"

"Mmmhmmmm."

"Because this is important."

"...sure."

"I've left two children in the pantry for you to fatten. Do make sure they're nice and plump when my... associate... comes to pick them up."

Not even a blink.

"Do not let her borrow my knives, though. Unless you've changed your mind about washing human blood off them."

The small shrug of her shoulders wasn't a clear answer. But from the way her eyes hadn't even shifted toward him, he decided he hadn't reached through to her.

Miffed, he tried again.

"And do not go into my laboratory, dearie. There are poisons brewing. Deadly poisons. Poisons that will peel the skin off your body and melt your eyes if you're even in the same room," he clarified, frowning when she didn't protest. Belle understood about the shady politics that went behind every throne, but she always had complained about those who'd try their hands at assassination. Never mind that the fools always forgot to include _not getting caught_ into their deals. "I'm thinking to upgrade the delivery method from a few drops in their meals, to the essence of a flower!" He clapped, only partially in fake enthusiasm now that this new idea was taking flight. "What do you think? They get a nice bouquet in the morning, and it's decorating their tomb before nightfall!"

"Lovely."

He huffed, ready to snap his fingers and start his trip, but one last glance at his maid revealed a small quirk to her lips. "You little witch!" he hissed.

Belle broke into giggles.

"I'm sorry! You were trying so hard, and then... peel the skin off, indeed!" She rolled her eyes. "As if I don't know that the first rule of poisons is that they be undetectable."

"I might... have exaggerated."

She gave him a look, and then, happily and without further prompting, left her book aside and came to her feet. "You're really leaving?"

Rumpelstiltskin nodded.

Her hands joined together, and a passing glint in her eye made him think that she was deliberating reaching out for him. In the end she did not, and he sighed.

In relief, of course.

"I'll miss you," Belle said.

Rumpelstiltskin gazed at her. Two years ago he would have laughed at the sentiment. Now he tilted his head and, almost without his permission, smiled back. He wiped off the smile in the next second, and wagged a finger at her in warning. "And do your work, you hear me? I'll be back before the end of the week, and I better find everything sparkling!"

Despite his attempt, the words lacked the tone of a looming threat, even though he knew she'd pay more attention to her books than her dusting. Neither did Belle look mournful at the thought of his return.

Rumpelstiltskin gave a last glance at the girl before going away.

She would work her way through her newest tomes in his absence, wouldn't she?

With a sigh, Rumpelstiltskin decided that he might as well save the two of them the boredom of nothing new to talk about, and bring her something new to read. 

 

The End  
13/09/16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check the [Masterlist](http://leni-ba.tumblr.com/post/148190144703/the-long-haul-masterlist)!


	7. FTL. Memories (Redux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Companion for [Memories](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4135530/chapters/17050659). Belle's pov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [Fic Variations](http://fic-variations.livejournal.com/). Prompt: **isolation** ,

Belle sighed in relief when she opened the oven door and no acrid smell announced another failure. Grinning, she took out the plate and carefully placed it in the middle of the kitchen table.

The cake wasn't very impressive, truth be told. In fact, it looked lumpy on one side and had a not-too-slight depression in the center. But cake was cake, and it wasn't as if she could send a servant to the local bakery for a better version. If Rumpelstiltskin complained, he could move his castle closer to a town, instead of isolating himself - and his maid, now that he had one - up an impossible road in the middle of the mountains.

Of course, for him to complain, first he would have to come out of his laboratory. An unlikely proposition when he'd holed himself up there since before Belle had woken up that morning, and the barrier at the foot of the stairs ensured that he would be left undisturbed.

Were it a potion that had him so focused that he eschewed a warm meal or fresh straw (and the company inherent to each task), Belle would have left him to it and spent the free hours with a new book. But two years ago on this date, she had walked in on a remembrance. An old custom, one that few kept in Avonlea but Belle had still recognized from the description in several books. A single candle in a dark room, a time of somber vigil for prayer and reflection and memories of those who'd parted from this life.

Or for a father mourning the son he missed.

"And suffer alone, the fool," she grumbled now, still smarting that a year later she'd been whisked away to her old dungeon cell when she'd wondered if she could keep him company.

Oh, he hadn't actually locked her inside. The time she spent her nights on a bed of straw was long past. But for a long time it had been his favorite way to dismiss her when he didn't want to engage in a discussion or even to give an excuse for his behavior.

His face when she would return every time!

For a smart man, it had taken him a while to realize that Belle didn't give up easily. She would walk back to the main hall or his tower, and try again to make him see reason about whatever the issue at hand was.

But she hadn't insisted, that day last year, too unsure on how to handle a grieving Rumpelstiltskin. The rituals to remember the dead were diametrically different in Avonlea: no tears, no silence, no darkness. Not after the first year of mourning. Instead they had friends and family of the departed meeting together. And stories shared, jokes told, and toasts drunk while music was played in the background. A life remembered and celebrated.

And somewhere in-between, there was always cake.

Belle looked at her creation, wincing a little at the shape but satisfied with the smell and the taste of the tiny corner she'd chipped off to check. Rumpelstiltskin's sweet tooth had been a surprise, but it meant that he often accepted worse (and slightly burned) offerings if there was nothing else to tempt his appetite.

If he refused to sit down and share a piece with her, it wouldn't be because of her lack of talent in the kitchen.

"I even managed not to set anything on fire this time," she told herself, knowing it was time to tackle an even harder task: to convince Rumpelstiltskin he didn't have to wallow in his memories alone today. "..and not be banished to the dungeons as a result."

Taking a deep breath, Belle squared her shoulders and marched off to the main hall, meaning to wait until Rumpelstiltskin made his way there.

Ambushing the Dark One in his own home was a mission for fools. Suicidal fools.

Or, perhaps, for a friend who worried about him.

 

The End  
16/08/16


	8. pre-curse. Belle & Rumpelstiltskin. Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: flick

As Rumpelstiltskin had expected, he found his maid in the library, warmly ensconced in the couch that she’d spotted a few months ago on one of their travels.

She was calling his name before the purple mist around him cleared.

The happy sound made him relax his shoulders for the first time since he’d left the castle, but he immediately called up a frown in case Belle started getting ideas about how her friendly gestures were welcome.

“Why, hello, dearie. Right on time for dinner." When that didn't prompt her onto her feet to rush to the kitchen, he gave a pointed look to the scroll in her hands. "Hard at work, are you?”

“Actually, yes,” she said easily. She flipped the scroll so the writing was visible to him, and chuckled at the way his nose crinkled at the foreign words. He knew several languages, but had no patience for literature that didn’t relate to his spells.

“Poetry,” he scoffed, recognizing the short lines.

Belle gave him an amused look. “For someone who makes most of the additions to this library, you complain too much,” she told him. “I’ll have you know that this is a gripping tale, and yes, it rhymes. Which makes it beautiful on top of interesting.”

A mocking eyebrow rose. “Beeee-u-tiful, she says!” His voice rose to that hateful pitch that announced his contempt. “Starcrossed lovers? Hopeless romance? And oh, sure, a happy ending that makes it all better!”

“Do you dislike a happy ending, Rumple?”

A flash of uncertainly crossed his eyes, but then he was grinning, all dark teeth and devilish eyes. “Any ending means you’re dead, darling.”

Since he had a point, if only in the most literal of senses, Belle didn’t comment. Instead she waved the scroll before his face. “It’s art. It’s hours of hard work. Someone put real emotions into words. So what if the story is not real, I still enjoy it!”

“It’s silly,” he spat.

“It’s not. Poetry is the true food for the soul,” Belle retorted, giving a heartfelt sigh that she knew would annoy him.

The Dark One had no use for flights of romance.

She expected him to roll his eyes and march away in disgust. But instead he stepped closer, locking his gaze to hers. “Right. But since I don’t have a soul that needs nurturing, allow me to return to my original question…” Still smiling, he reached out to flick her nose in a gesture that would have been affectionate if it wasn’t followed by a puff of magic that took the scroll from her hands. “Yes. Now that I have your attention… Where. is. my. dinner?”

Belle sighed. She better not have to waste hours looking for it among the several shelves of the library, or Rumpelstiltskin would have to live with cold breakfasts for a week at least. “Fine. Give me ten minutes and I’ll have it served downstairs.” She turned on her heel, gave a few steps, but then turned again and strode up to him, jaw jutted out in determination.

Rumpelstiltskin gave a slow blink. “Yes?”

To the shock of both, she responded with a hard poke in his chest. “You ever tell me again that you don’t have a soul, and I’ll sit you down on that couch and not let you up until I’ve read my whole poetry collection and you admit you’re wrong.”

He scrunched his nose. “Unlikely.”

“Wanna bet?”

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her for the longest moment, then shook his head. “Worry about dinner, little one. Leave the Dark One to sort out the state of his soul.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Which you do have,” she specified, her fingertip becoming a hand against his chest, as if his heartbeat was proof of her words.

Rumpelstiltskin took her wrist between thumb and forefinger, giving it a soft push and grumbling under his breath when she resisted. “You are a silly girl, Belle.”

But she was standing whole, allowed to defy him when any other master would have struck her down. There were monsters in the world, but Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t one of them.

“On the contrary,” she told him, meeting his gaze stubbornly, “right now I’m the smarter person in this room.”

 

The End  
27/11/16


	9. FTL - Hints

Belle was facing away, watching as their latest guest set off toward the main gates. She had wanted to see her former betrothed's safe departure, not an unreasonable request after the belligerent boy had spent a couple of seasons as a flower - and perhaps, given the adamant claims that Belle should come along, she might be making sure that he left for good.

Rumpelstiltskin had followed behind the pair, more to make sure his maid wasn't dragged away (spirited girl, Belle, but easily carted off when he wasn't looking) than to bid Gaston goodbye.

Her attention was pinned on the knight, so he allowed his gaze to roam freely over her, taking special note of every nuance of her expression.

Would he spot a sign of sadness, perhaps some lingering affection for the knight? Once she'd told him that the marriage had been arranged, that she'd never fallen in love with her fiancé. But that had been so many months ago, when she still had new discoveries to make in his shelves and she laughed every time she got turned around in his hallways. Now she had a complete inventory of his treasures, and could find her way from his tower to the deepest dungeons with her eyes blindfolded. 

Surely even a unchallenging marriage was now a better prospect than a lifetime chained to the Dark Castle and its master?

"Are you sure?" he found himself asking, much to his surprise.

Belle gazed back at him, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "Sure about what?"

Rumpelstiltskin had to chuckle at her honest puzzlement. He couldn't think of another soul who wouldn't be kneeling at his feet, begging to be released. With a finger, he pointed to the retreating figure already reaching the outer wall. "Telling him to go."

"Gaston?" Her frown deepened. "You... would've let him stay?"

He giggled at that notion. What would he do, with a hulking boy throwing glares at him at every turn. That type would rush headlong into dire straits before the sun had set, waving that sword around as if simple metal could harm the Dark One. His patience already hanging on a thin thread, Rumpelstiltskin knew he wouldn't have avoided the temptation to throw the boy into a worse fate than a vase this time. 

No, he'd never planned for company in the Dark Castle.

He hadn't even planned for a maid. 

In fact, by all calculations he should be already rid of her, either because he'd gotten bored of her presence, or because she'd jumped at the chance to sweeten a deal and had been happily handed over to some enamored lad who owned something Rumpelstiltskin wanted.

Or because she asked nicely, and he wasn't so loathsome as to make her stay.

(Not anymore. He'd gotten bored of _that_ months ago, not that the girl was taking a hint, or any advantage if she did.)

"He asked you to go with him, didn't he?"

She gave a slow nod, but the look she gave him said that his meaning remained obscure.

He motioned toward the road. "Weeeeell?"

Belle glanced down that direction, then back at him, her head tilted in silent question.

"He's a decent sort," he admitted grudgingly, though he wrinkled his nose in mock complaint. "No manners at all, of course, but decent folk are always trying to slay the beast."

"You are not a beast," she told him, almost automatically, and ignored his answering snort, "and I'm not going anywhere." Her confusion had cleared, turning to annoyance, and when he didn't respond to her claim, it gave way to a hint of hurt. "You want me to go?"

He pressed his lips together. The answer was simple, and yet impossible to voice. Instead he waved a hand into the air, always a sure distraction, and said, "What I want doesn't matter."

"Because we already have a deal in place."

That interpretation accommodated him, so he was quick to nod.

Belle regarded him for a long moment, then reached out to give a quick tug on his sleeve, pulling back before he could decide whether to snap at her, turn away, or both. "I'm not leaving, Rumple," she told him, her smile sincere, and then she gave a little laugh. "Certainly not with Gaston!"

Rumpelstiltskin nodded again, a little more eagerly despite himself, but his eyes betrayed curiosity at her decision. "Such an odd girl," he murmured.

Her jaw firmed. "Better odd than unhappy."

_Are you happy, then?_

But asking that would prompt her to answer, so instead he smiled crookedly and tutted in reproach. "Pity for your would-be rescuer. The boy deserved at least a kinder farewell," he said, humor back in his voice as he pictured his maid brandishing a broom, ready to chase the knight away. "You know, dearie. For someone who always is spouting pretty verses about bravery, you didn't seem very impressed. Not many would come looking for something the Dark One claims as his."

This time her frown came with a flash of temper.

"I'm not a thing," she snapped, and when he only tittered at her anger, her eyes narrowed and Belle picked up her skirts before she marched back through the doors, "and I'm _not_ in need of rescue."

Rumpelstiltskin glanced over at her, standing in the middle of his receiving hall with her head held high, waiting for the dreaded Spinner to shut the doors against the rest of the world and join her.

"Seems not," he said softly, adding a giggle because it was madness for anyone to enter the Dark Castle under their own will.

Yet the girl was not mad.

That meant something.

But what was it?

 

The End  
04/08/16


	10. Belle & OMC - pre-curse - Be My Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: grisly

From the looks the boy was giving around the kitchen, it was obvious that he had been expecting a more sinister tableau. His eyes widened as he found only a spacious room that featured a modern stove and an array of pots and pans that would be enough to prepare a banquet instead of modest meals for two. 

"It's all right," Belle said soothingly, turning to the cabinet for utensils and glasses to set the table while their dinner finished cooking. It wasn't often that she got company for dinner while Rumpelstiltskin was traveling. 

Most men who came to her rescue had to be pushed back through the doors - and the spells Rumpelstiltskin had crafted to that end weren't kind.

But this youngster had seemed satisfied with her explanation that the Dark Castle was her new home, and when Belle had pointed out that it was too dark to head outside on his own, he'd hesitatingly accepted her invitation for a warm dinner and a straw pallet on the kitchen floor.

(He'd paled so starkly at her first mention of empty rooms up the stairs, that Belle hadn't pressed the offer of a bed.)

Even now he seemed sure that some grisly fate awaited him. Belle said nothing, but from the corner of her eye, she could see her guest inspecting the pots. Probably making sure that the ingredients didn't include human parts.

Rumors of Rumpelstiltskin's diet were that ghastly... and he was delighted every time he heard of a new one.

"It's chicken," Belle told the boy. 

He stilled, caught, and nodded hesitatingly.

There was so much fear in him that Belle knew it would take little to send him running. She must be spending too much time with Rumpelstiltskin, because she felt the perverse temptation to reassure the boy that the flesh of burglars was best served in stew.

 _A quip, dearie. Not serious._

Yes. Definitely Rumple's influence. 

Instead she pressed her lips together and just smiled.

The world didn't need more wild gossip about the Dark One or his maid.

"Take a seat," she invited, moving to ladle the hot soup into two bowls. "I'm sure this time the potatoes will be edible - but the carrots always come up mushy or rock-hard. Let's see..." She poked one orange-red chunk. Sighed when it dissolved at the touch. "Mushy it is."

That made the boy stare at her. "You can't cook carrots?"

Belle huffed. "I'm learning," she said in her defense, inwardly grumbling about the men who hadn’t even sliced the vegetables and still complained.

She looked up when the boy snorted a laugh.

He shrugged at her curious look. "Sorry. I was just wondering whether you're staying because you really are comfortable here... or because no one else would hire you."

Belle blinked. 

No one had ever suggested that there was an option other than to remain with the Dark One or return to her father. Yet here was this complete stranger, casually pointing out a path where she was responsible for her own fate.

With a grin, Belle decided that this rescue attempt would be rewarded.

Knights and sons of royal blood had walked away with bruises and their ego around their ankles, but this stable boy would carry gold home for his efforts.

"Believe me, if I weren't content, nothing could make me stay," she told him.

His eyes widened again, his thoughts obviously going to her powerful master, and he even glanced around, as if the Dark One would bother to spy on his own kitchen. 

Belle met his gaze, held it for a long moment.

The boy finally relaxed minutely. "You know," he said slowly, wonder in his voice, "I think I'll believe you."

Belle grinned. Yes. This one definitely deserved a reward.

 

The End  
26/11/16


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/734382.html?thread=97151918#t97151918). Prompt: **wish**
> 
> Seventh time is the charm!

Afterwards, Belle wished she could pinpoint the exact moment Rumpelstiltskin had accepted that she'd be staying permanently. There was no explanation, no admission that he finally trusted her to return; but the hints about the possibilities for a young woman in the outside world ceased, and the tense set of his shoulders as he pretended to ignore her entrance eased into true placidity at her comings and goings.

Belle only noticed that she was _expected_ now, the day Rumpelstiltskin glanced up as she hurried in after dinnertime and, eyebrows knit between annoyance and worry, asked: "What took you so long?"


	12. FTL. Belle. Contentment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle is happy with her life at the Dark Castle. What else could she wish for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Alias_sd6. Prompt: horoscope (Chinese horoscope: OX)

Belle beat the dust off the curtains with a little more force than usual, annoyed with herself for never remembering how a visit to her hometown could upset her.

It wasn't that the same people who had smiled and greeted her on the streets a few years ago now avoided her gaze. At least they were still civil, and that was a huge improvement on her reception in most other towns. It was the people who _did_ acknowledge her that made her frown.

An old woman pressing a good fortune charm into her hand, reassuring her that she prayed for Belle's soul every day. The young man who had sworn to go to her rescue as soon as he was granted a knighthood. One of her former companions, in tears at the thought of her young mistress having to endure the presence of such a beast.

"He's not a beast," Belle had muttered, but not low enough that she wasn't heard.

"Milady?"

"He - he can be nice," she'd offered.

But she might as well have kept quiet, because the other woman had shaken her head and broken into tears again. "And to think you were to marry such a great, handsome man!" She'd taken hold of Belle's hand, giving her comforting little pats even as she glanced at her with a woeful expression. "Now all is lost for you," she'd said with a loud sniffle. "Whatever will you _do_ now?"

The answer had been to return to the Dark Castle, shut herself in the great library that no marriage contract would have granted her, and try to lose her bad mood in her favorite tale. When that hadn't worked, Belle had charged into housework, muttering and grumbling about people's lack of perception. Did she seem lost? Was she giving any indication of suffering her fate, instead of embracing the adventures it had brought?

She was... Yes, she was _happy_.

There was a world she'd never have seen without Rumpelstiltskin. There were stories she didn't need to read, because she watched them unfold and sometimes even played a small part in them. Her life was not perfect, but she wouldn't change a thing in it... and people pitied her!

Even her father had tried to pry her away from her new life, unable to understand that staying was her choice now. Where else would her tastes be cultivated, with someone paying attention to her interests and bringing home reading material on them? Who else would be knowledgeable about so many subjects, and wouldn't think her odd for wanting to learn more about all of them? 

Rumpelstiltskin appreciated her, and though she couldn't explain that to a world that saw him only as the horrid Dark One, Belle thought her manner openly betrayed her contentment.

And still all people could tell her was how they wished she had stayed and become Gaston's wife instead!

But then, Gaston had been a favorite in Avonlea's public eye from the moment he and his men had arrived. Women had admired him for his looks and his strength, following him with hungry gazes that Belle understood distantly but failed to emulate. The men had listed his heroics in the battlefield, and congratulated her for securing such a strong warrior for Avonlea's defense. Several of her maids had giggled and blushed at the mere mention of their lady's fiancé, and Orianna, the oldest in their midst and affianced to the tavern keeper's son, had regaled them all with the songs the men had composed in the great knight's honor. 

One verse in particular had stuck in Belle's memory.

Strong as an ox, indeed.

And, she had thought disloyally, about as interesting.

For the length of their engagement, she had told herself that it didn't matter. Gaston was nice, and he was pleasant enough; he would make a good husband. Her misgivings were foolish, and even if their marriage soured in their lack of interests in common, no sacrifice was too great to save her people.

Belle would have gladly spent a lifetime next to a man who didn't understand her, if he pledged himself to fight against the ogres for as long. Which, of course, had meant that when the Dark One had offered to get rid of their enemies permanently, Belle had not doubted to go with him instead.

If she had known what life at the Dark Castle would be like, surrounded by knowledge and eventually taken around the world, Belle would have leapt at Rumpelstiltskin at first sight and dragged him out of the war room.

Belle let out a laugh at the imagery.

She almost jumped when it was echoed from behind her.

"I thought the curtains had insulted you," Rumpelstiltskin said, as ever unapologetic at scaring her, and he lifted an eyebrow at the duster she was still wielding, "but it seems they're telling a good joke now. Do share, dearie!"

Belle shook her head. "They just needed some cleaning."

"Only two days after the last time," he commented, obviously unconvinced by her sudden need for spotlessness but not interested enough to pry. He gave a shrug, then turned toward his spinning wheel, waving over his shoulder. "Continue, then!"

Belle heard him settle on the bench, the squeal of the wheel as it started. The thought of marriage fresh in her mind, it struck her that this would look like a common scene of married life, one among thousands where the women tended to their home, while their men worked at their trades.

It made her smile.

She would have made a terrible wife for Gaston, but maybe with someone else... someone who was kind and who smiled when she brought up a new subject at the dinner table... someone like---

Belle shook her head.

Better not ruin her improving mood with impossible daydreams again.

 

The End  
27/08/16


	13. FTL - Belle & Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for CozyCoffee at [Comment Fic](). Prompt: **blue,**

Red had to agree with the prince's assessment about the Dark One's maid: pretty and sweet, and completely harmless. Which did not mean that she would lower her guard when a package arrived with the girl's name on it - a package with only one possible source, given the whiff of dark magic that accompanied it.

It had been disappointing to discover that the box contained nothing but a dress - but what a dress!

The girl laughed, already unfolding the dress and holding it against her, passing her fingers over the fine silk in giddy relish and even _giggling_ when she got to the golden thread that adorned the sleeves in delicate whorls.

"He does know that the guests shouldn't outshine the bride, right?" Red wondered, eyeing the beautiful concoction of blue silk and only a little surprised when she checked that, yes, it was the same color as Belle's eyes. 

"Oh, let's hope _not_ , or I'll be wearing a crown of diamonds just so he can be contrary," Belle said, daring to roll her eyes at the absurdity of Rumpelstiltskin's behavior (and earning Red's everlasting curiosity, as she'd never dreamed to live to see someone treat the Dark One so familiarly), but there was fondness behind the amusement, and Red wasn't surprised when, with one more happy laugh, the other girl danced her way behind the screen to change.


	14. The Dark One's Maid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> white-throated-packrat prompted: lambing

Seething, his nose itching at the smell of hay and unwashed animals, Rumpelstiltskin stood at the entrance of the dark barn, helpless as his maid took his reputation as the most dangerous wizard in the realm and tore it apart with each of her smiles and happy coos.

How could he terrify these farmers if Belle insisted in proving that the Dark One kept company with a bright-eyed girl who had squealed in glee when the farmer’s wife had commented on the newborn lambs and begged to be allowed to see them.

Pretending not to notice the woman’s shrewd gaze as she looked between him and Belle, Rumpelstiltskin came to terms with the fact that this farm would soon have a repaired roof and their fields would yield a plentiful harvest despite the storm that had destroyed it the week before.

Belle would give him one of those hurt glances if he didn’t secure the well-being of the little ones.

At least, he mused with resignation, it hadn’t been puppies.

It was getting harder to deny the girl a pet.

“It’s so cute!” Belle whispered, face alight as she petted the small animal.

She was oblivious to the glances the farmer and his wife were exchanging behind her back. Their situation was dawning on them, and unless Rumpelstiltskin was willing to drag that girl away and chastise her sharply before strangers, it was obvious that even the Dark One had a soft spot. He would be lucky if he walked away with more than a promise to serve him at some unspecified point in the future.

He never should have brought Belle along.

(But hadn’t he thought the same the last time Belle came on a trip with him?)

That was when the girl chose to turn toward him, blue eyes shining with hope. “Rumple, can I—?”

“No,” he cut her off swiftly.

Too late.

She had already been heard to call him _that_. With undeniable affection.

The farmer’s eyes widened, but the wife just breathed deeply and gave a placid smile. If he was to have a hope of a somewhat fair deal, Rumpelstiltskin would have to distract the woman.

For now, he had to deal with his maid’s love for anything small and cuddly. Rumpelstiltskin grit his teeth. “If we take that thing anywhere,” he warned her, “you’re serving it for my dinner tonight.”

Belle was too well-behaved to roll her eyes at her master in public, but it was evident that she had no fear of him. “As you wish,” she said softly, though it was obvious to him that she hadn’t given up on bringing a third occupant to the Dark Castle. With a little sigh, she returned to admiring the lamb, her body language signaling that he was dismissed until she was ready to return home.

The farmer and his wife were smart enough not to say a word.

“Enough of this,” Rumpelstiltskin snapped, as if it were his choice to leave the barn and return to their negotiations. “I’ve seen the state of things, and I have a deal in mind. Now, if you wouldn’t mind coming to settle things?” He addressed the man only, clicking a finger to magic him back to his hut. The wife yelped, and he made his best impression of an apology - which must have still revealed his true temper, because she scuttled back. “Now, dearie. If you wouldn’t mind staying with my companion?” He dropped his voice. “The girl is sweet, but clumsy. Surely you prefer not to add a burned barn to your recent losses?”

The woman gaped, but had no recourse except to nod.

Belle made a sound of protest, swirling to face him, eyebrows knitted together.

He followed the farmer before she could actually say a word.

The annoyance on her face promised a line of cold dinners in the near future.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled.

It would be fun to coax her out of that mood.

 

The End  
15/05/17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love. Please leave a comment!


	15. Remix: Belle's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remix of [this ficlet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4249161/chapters/9615858).

She came as soon as she heard the news, practically frogmarching Regina outside the bookstore while thanking her for making time for an old friend and coming over to visit. Regina hadn't looked pleased at the treatment, and maybe tomorrow Belle would fret about having manhandled the mayor thus, but in that moment her only thought had been that Mr. Gold was hurt.

Regina had told her the whole story, of course: the pregnant teenager, the contract on the unborn baby, and Gold's part in that mess. Regina seemed to think that it was all Mr. Gold's fault - for what, doing his job as the town's only lawyer? not locking his door? failing to consider that Ashley Boyd was dangerous? - and Belle had been too worried to do more than give her a disbelieving stare before she decided to close up early and go make sure her friend was doing okay, and maybe take him dinner too? 

"You're wasting your time," Regina had told her before she left, sniffing in disapproval, "that man can take care of himself."

Belle agreed, yes, sure; but no matter how important and self-sufficient a man was, surely he would enjoy having someone take care of him for once?

 

The End  
21/03/16


	16. Chapter 16

Wide blue eyes spot the bandage at his temple as soon as he opens his front door, but where Rumpelstiltskin expects a wince of sympathy at the sight of his wound, he gets a furious hiss instead: "That little bitch."

He chuckles at her vocabulary in this new world, aware that Belle will be appalled when she wakes up, and says calmly, "I'm assured that Miss Boyd had a reasonable excuse."

"It's that Swan woman's influence, I'm sure," she responds venomously, "but never mind them. I'm concerned about _you_ ; do you need anything?" And then, probably aware that Mr. Gold never asks for help, she continues at a rapid-fire pace, "I brought dinner, enough for two if you'd like some company - uh... do you?"

He wants to say no, because it would be the wisest choice to keep his distance until the curse breaks; but he steps aside to let her in and says nothing instead.

 

The End  
30/06/15


	17. Remix: Belle's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [Lonely Prompts Week](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/704622.html) at Comment Fic. Remix of [this ficlet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4249161/chapters/9694578).

Belle almost groans when she reaches into the cabinet and comes out with _that_ cup; it's a beautiful, elegant thing, of far better quality than the mugs she buys by the dozen at the dollar shop; it shouldn't even be here, and it wouldn't be if Belle wasn't such a klutz and dropped it on her very first visit to the pawnshop, all those years ago. To her surprise, Mr. Gold hadn't yelled at her, and somehow she'd ended up bringing the chipped cup home.

She kept meaning to repair it, or at least replace it with a similar one, but somehow she never quite finds the time for either; and even broken, it's a physical reminder that Mr. Gold is not the ogre everybody paints him to be, so she doesn't have the heart to trash it.

Until a few weeks ago, the cup stayed in the back of her cabinet, waiting for its fate; but then Mr. Gold had spied it and, smiling, asked that she used it to serve his tea, waving aside her protests that it was unsanitary.

"It has character," he'd said when she had questioned his choice, and on another occasion, his lips had quirked as if sharing a private joke: "All part of my mysterious aura, dearie."

And Belle had laughed back, somehow sure that one day, she'd understand this man.

 

The End  
21/03/16


	18. Belle French/Rumpelstiltskin - S1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latte prompted "A Woman Like You"

Belle would have been happy to keep to their original plan. But keeping her inside four walls with him, even if it was her home in this world, would put their relationship years back.

That was why Rumpelstiltskin found himself walking next to Belle on the way back to her place.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Belle was saying, smiling freely.

With her arm threaded through his, as it had been since the lights turned off, Rumpelstiltskin had to agree. He didn't even mind that the nuns would have sold their candles and he'd have no reason to kick them off the convent. Maybe tomorrow he would be annoyed, but right now Belle was happily telling him the highlights of their evening together.

It was impossible for him to think of anything else.

"Thanks for accepting my invitation, Mr. Gold," she told him.

"A delicious dinner and delightful company for the rest of the night." His lips curved into a sincere smile just for her. "I'm a lucky man."

Her blush told him what this Belle was too hesitant to voice. "I'm glad you liked my cooking," she said instead, her voice timid.

Rumpelstiltskin could hardly explain that twenty-eight years had improved the results of her time spent at a stove. It had never been his way to reassure her in a straightforward manner, so it took him a moment to find the right words. "I definitely would come back for more."

Belle's eyes widened. "Y-you would?"

"And not for the food," he told her, casting the die, "good as it was."

She stared at him, the color rising in her cheeks before she looked away, overwhelmed.

Rumpelstiltskin slowed their pace. "I mean it," he said softly.

Since Emma's arrival, he had tried to keep his distance from the girl who only knew herself as the young bookstore owner who was friends with the surly Mr. Gold. But even if the curse wasn't broken yet, it had weakened to the point that Belle had unknowingly picked up the thread of their relationship.

Just like it had been during their life in the Dark Castle, Belle was again a force he wasn't strong enough to resist. And this time it wasn't a bored maid in search for adventure and knowledge.

This time her aim was, well, _him_.

The girl wanted to be courted, and after five years of being his friend and companion, after falling in love with her despite his better intentions, she deserved everything she wanted.

Only a woman like her would have seen through the beast to a man she could love.

Even now, she paid no attention to the rumors about the strict pawnshop owner and landlord. Instead she had stopped to look at him, her eyes bright and that soft smile that he'd thought of tracing with his fingers so many times, if only to make sure that it was real.

Belle took a deep breath when he put his thought into action.

"I didn't..." she whispered, and then with all the hope of two worlds in her eyes, she hesitatingly raised her hand to cradle his cheek. "Do you mean this, Gold?"

It wasn't his real name. She wasn't her real self.

But Belle had kissed him goodbye in the Enchanted Forest. A true love's kiss. He wasn't fool enough to deny her anything.

For all answer, he nodded, unable to tone down his smile.

Belle beamed with joy. "I feel like I've been waiting for this forever," she confessed in a whisper. "I can't believe-"

The emotion that cut off her words emboldened him to take her wrist and kiss the center of her palm. "Forever is a long time, my dear," he told her.

Maybe it was the strength of their original deal. Maybe it was just Belle peeking through a crack in the curse, raising her head to meet his eyes without the doubts and fears the curse had burdened her with.

Blue eyes blazed with resolve. Her voice rang clear. "Sounds good to me."

Rumpelstiltskin fought against closing his eyes in a wordless prayer of thanks to the gods who'd abandoned him centuries ago. "Yes," he said, squeezing her hand, "it's good indeed."

 

The End´  
24/11/16


	19. Laughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for CozyCoffee at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/634515.html?thread=86782355#t86782355). Prompt: **laughter**.
> 
> Also, the version posted here is a bit longer. Because six sentences weren't enough. lol

Rumpelstiltskin had been glad to discover that, in this world as in the last, it was relatively simple to make Belle laugh.

In the Dark Castle, he had amused her with the more innocent recounts of his travels, and alleviated their boredom with little games and the occasional magic trick. Later, as he grew convinced of Belle's loyalty, he would sometimes send her on an errand to his more benign associates (her little adventures, she called them with a sunny smile, and he still wondered whether she'd been aware that everyone she met was under penalty of gruesome death, should any harm befall her). Later still, when he had felt so strangely safe in her easy friendship, he would wheedle her into trying some small spell of her own - and they both would laugh at the results (because Belle didn't care for magic as Rumpelstiltskin taught it, and no matter how he teased her, she insisted on trying things her own way).

In Storybrooke, he comes to her bookstore full of tales and little bits of gossip he's gathered as he collected rent around town, and challenges her to a game of checkers with a cheeseburger from Granny's as the stakes. If Belle wonders at Mr. Gold's sudden turn-around from brief visits and stifled greetings to this willingness to spend his free time with her, she doesn't mention it and instead pours more tea into his cup.

"Why did you ask for this one," she asks, still puzzled at his request. "I never could repair it."

Rumpelstiltskin sets the chipped cup down and leans closer, as if to impart a secret. "All part of my mysterious aura, dearie," he whispers.

She looks at him for a beat, gauging whether it's a serious answer, and then laughs at the absurdity of it. "I'll find out, you know."

He nods, and this time he is in earnest. "But not yet."

 

The End  
05/07/15


	20. S1 - Driven to Violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for beastly-cheese. Prompt: "The fuck. Who are _you_?"

Keith couldn't say that he'd ever paid a lot of attention to Belle French. He couldn't remember actually crossing ways with the woman, as they didn't even keep the same hours. But once he's started thinking of her, he couldn't get the little brunette out of his mind. He'd have to thank the mayor later. It had taken Ms. Mills coming to the Rabbit Hole for a personal inspection, and making a casual comment about how unfair it was that her lovely friend was single for Keith to start noticing the young (and yes, very pretty) bookshop owner.

Shame that she was such a sour bitch. 

"Come on," he insisted, smiling as he grabbed her arm and tugged her along and into the alley. He was only asking for a bit of her time here. When even a girl's best friend said that she needed a man, then that meant she had to give a guy a chance. "Just get to know me. I'm a fun guy, I swear."

He ignored her pathetic attempt to get herself loose, rolling his eyes at the act. He knew women, all right? If she really wanted him to go to hell, there would be slapping and trying to kick him between the legs.

Sometimes, even that was just foreplay.

Women just weren't good at saying what they actually thought, and they were grateful when someone like him came along and knew what they needed. French was easy. She needed a man; end of story. The fact that she was so beautiful meant he was the perfect man for her.

Now if only she'd stop screaming as if she actually believed that anyone would be around this late at night...

"Belle?!"

Keith groaned. Great, an interruption. He didn't recognize the voice and he didn't care to, trusting that the other man would see that French was just playing hard to get. "We're fine," he grit out anyway, tugging harder, squeezing her wrist to warn her not to make a scene. If she made trouble for him, he might get upset for real.

"Let. Her. Go."

With a growl of frustration, Keith finally glanced over at the stranger who'd decided to get in the middle of a personal situation. He had the time to see a golden tooth glint in the darkness before a heavy blow struck his shoulder. "What the fuck!" he screeched, startled into letting French go. "Who are _you_?"

Another strike headed for his face, but he managed to block it. 

Was that a fucking cane?

What kind of weirdo---? Oh no. Oh, _shit_. "Mr. Gold?" The look the other man gave him sobered him up in an instant. He could take him, of course. Gold was several inches shorter and at least thirty pounds lighter. In a fair fight... But no deal with Gold was ever fair. Keith lifted his hands in the air, giving him a man-to-man smirk. "Hey. I was just trying to ask her out. You know how they get," he laughed, then licked his lips because Gold wasn't commiserating with him. "No harm done, right?"

That did make the other man smile. A smile that made Keith take a step backwards. "Not yet, no," Gold said, cutting off his exit. He turned briefly to French. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

French just hugged herself in answer.

Keith blinked. _'Sweetheart'_? That lying bitch!

"So the two of you...." Oh fuck. He'd just tried to romance Gold's girl. Of all the bad luck! "She never said! She strung me along!"

Later, he would realize his mistake had been to come closer to reason with Gold. All that got him was a hard poke in the gut, the tip of Gold's cane driving into his flesh with enough strength to drive Keith's breath away.

"Let's just go," came French's sniveling voice, "he's not worth it."

Keith wanted to throttle her on the spot.

A strike straight at his skull made him howl as he saw stars.

"Quite right, dearie," he heard Gold say, murder in his voice. "But _you_ are."

Keith barely had time to shield his head as another hit came. And another. And by the time he'd almost lost coherence, he'd never been gladder to hear the new deputy's voice as she demanded Gold stop hitting him.

 

The End  
09/09/16


	21. S1 - At the Diner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Alias_sd6. Prompt: "Quit staring! They'll notice us!"

Emma wished for the earth to open up and swallow her. Or Mary Margaret.

Yes, definitely Mary Margaret. The younger woman couldn't be more openly curious if she took out pen and paper and started to interview Gold on his choice of setting... and company.

"Quit staring!" Emma hissed, pinching her roommate's arm. "They'll notice us!" More used to working undercover, she was pretending to be interested in her own cup of hot chocolate, stealing quick glances over at the booth which now held a visibly flustered pawnbroker and a blushing girl at least twenty years his junior. One thing was true about Storybrooke: things were never as she expected them.

Mary Margaret did drag her eyes away from the pair, but her face lit up with the possibility of such juicy gossip. "Are they really...?"

"I don't know!" Emma sighed. "It's Henry's idea, really. You know how he thinks-" she waved to encompass everything around them "-this is all some fairytale."

"Oh." Mary Margaret nodded in understanding. " _Belle_. And she does like books."

"The coincidences are not helping me break him out of his illusions," Emma confessed with a sigh. "It's like the whole town conspires to make these story-like endings, and how do you make a kid understand that people _do_ wake up from comas, or that orphans already have deadbeat fathers all the time-"

"But Tillman's taking care of his kids now."

"Okay. I'll grant you that one."

"And the rich boy did propose to the maid."

Emma snorted. "After he got her pregnant and left her to fend for herself - and fend against Gold, of all people. Ashley should have thrown that ring in his face."

"He seems sorry about that," Mary Margaret said quietly. She had never asked why Emma had had nobody to turn to, when Henry was born, but she hoped that old hurts wouldn't embitter Emma's outlook of the world. "People deserve a second chance, Emma."

Emma shrugged. "Anyway. No lost slipper, no fairytale. I can tell Henry that. But now _they_ -" she tilted her head to the pair who was now deep in conversation, leaning toward each other as if they wished there was no table between them "-had to start dating. Or whatever it is they're doing," she had to add, because her brain refused to think of Gold and romance in the same sentence. Then she gave a long sigh. "Henry's over the moon."

Mary Margaret gave a hum that Emma suspected was meant to cover a laugh. "Gold _is_ quite beast-like."

"I know," Emma groaned. "I'm telling you. If he ever does turn into some suave prince, I'm out of here."

Pressing her lips together to hold back more laughter, Mary Margaret tried an understanding nod. "I don't think you need to worry about that," she whispered, motioning to the booth in question just in time to let Emma see as Gold and Ruby scowled at each other. Ruby gestured toward the diner door, and Gold snarled something that must have been a threat, because Ruby narrowed her eyes but subsided. Emma didn't care for subtleness now; she had seen Gold break into violence, and though Keith Noth hadn't been an innocent bystander, her instincts said that it was best to keep an eye on the most powerful man in town-

-if only to catch him turn beet red as his girlfriend reached to take his hand.

"Huh."

"Why the look of surprise?" Mary Margaret questioned her, managing a concerned look for three seconds before she dissolved into snickers. "Are you seeing something that wasn't there before?"

Emma groaned. Henry had made her watch the movie, and pointed out everything that was remotely connected to the life of Belle French. "Please, don't."

"If it's true love, it's a tale as old as time."

It was great to see Mary Margaret in good spirits, but Emma wished anything else would have lifted her mood. "No, really. _Stop._ "

"Okay, okay. Change of subject." But the mischief in her roommate's eyes said she wasn't done. "I know you and I don't share the same tastes, but if you ever want to borrow something from my closet and I'm not around to ask..."

"Oh God."

"...be my guest!"

Emma shook her head and rose to her feet. "I'm heading back home. If you show up with mouse ears or more Disney lyrics, I'm evicting you."

"Hey! It's my place."

"And the Sheriff owes me big. Guess whom he is carrying away to spend the night in a cell if I ask."

Mary Margaret shook a warning finger at her, still smiling. "If it turns out that Henry is right and I'm your mother, I'll disinherit you."

"If it turns out that you're a queen and I'm a princess," Emma answered with a chuckle of her own, " _please do_."

 

The End  
09/09/16


	22. A (Last) Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: last phone call

"Gold, hi!" Belle answered the phone, sounding surprised.

Of course she wouldn't be expecting him to call; it took only a couple blocks from his shop to hers to have a conversation in person, and his leg allowed him that much without complaint. "Hello, sweetheart," he said, gentling his voice as he realized that this would be his last phone call with Belle French, "I was wondering if you'd like to come over."

She must have registered the difference, because her tone grew concerned as she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all," Rumpelstiltskin said, playing with the vial he'd just recovered from the golden egg. "Everything is just perfect."


	23. And Lie In It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "It was always you."

Rumpelstiltskin's bedroom in this world wasn't very different from the room she'd swept and dusted countless times in the Enchanted Forest. Most of the furniture was the same, down to the bed large enough to accommodate four (and certainly the two of them, with no need to cling as close to each other... yet cling they did).

It was also as dark as the Dark Castle had been when she'd first arrived.

Out of habit, she raised a hand to create the small witchlight that had served her so well in the last year before Regina cast the curse. But nothing came up. Her brow furrowed when a second attempt had the same result.

"It's different here," Rumpelstiltskin said, extending his own palm and grimacing at the unsteady burst of light that flickered in and out, giving her a glimpse of his worried mien before it cast them back into darkness.

Belle snuggled closer to him, reaching for his wrist in a silent bid to stop. "But you will be okay?"

She didn't want to think of a world where everyone everyone knew who the Dark One was, and he had no reliable magic to defend himself.

"Of course, sweetheart," he told her. Then chuckled darkly. "At least _I_ can still access it."

He never talked about her in that sneering tone, so Belle knew his mind has jumped to Regina's predicament. She let out a sigh, unsure how she must feel. On one hand, she was relieved that the Evil Queen had been put back behind bars where she couldn't harm anyone else. On the other hand, Regina had been Belle French's friend for more than two decades, and those memories hadn't vanished along with the personality who'd made them.

But Regina had made her own bed.

Now Belle intended to enjoy hers.

_Theirs_.

Rumpelstiltskin better understood that she had no intention of keeping separate beds anymore. As Belle French, she had understood that her boyfriend was uncomfortable with becoming intimate after such a short relationship. With her memories returned, Belle had not doubted to ask Rumpelstiltskin where the bedroom was, and had directed him under the covers and joined him before he could protest.

They hadn't done much more than kiss, but after the excitement of the day, building on their connection was enough. They had the future to discover the rest.

"I'm glad you stayed," she told him, running a finger down the crease that appeared on his forehead, "even if you're not."

He looked away. "Belle...."

"I know." Baelfire was his priority, and soon he would find a way to break through the barrier that separated Storybrooke from the outside world. If he could have left today, as planned, she would have accepted his departure with her best appearance of cheer. But he'd been forced to return home instead, and she wouldn't pretend to be sorry. "The option is that you'd barreled right through the town line," she reasoned, bringing her hands to cradle his cheeks so he would look at her, "and what would Mr. Gold have done except turn around and drive back?"

He nodded, turning his head to brush his lips against her palm. "You're right, of course."

Smiling, Belle leaned forward to kiss him again.

For a man who had come home with his cane wielded like a weapon, snarling about the new curse that the advent of magic had brought to the town line, Rumpelstiltskin now seemed pleasantly relaxed, digging his hand into her hair to hold her head in place.

After a few minutes they stopped, grinning at each other.

"I missed you so much, Belle," he told her, not for the first time that day.

Belle rubbed her cheek into the fingers that stroked it. "I didn't know to miss you, but you were always in my thoughts. In the Dark Castle or my apartment, it was always you, Rumpelstiltskin."

His face lit up at her words, and he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her. A soft smile appeared on his lips. "Can you be real?" he whispered, and his eyes shone with wonder.

Belle understood the sentiment wholeheartedly. She had woken up to find that Rumpelstiltskin not only returned her feelings, but that he hadn't pushed her away when her cursed self had sought him out.

For all they had spent months together, following the patterns this world called courting, it had nothing to this day when she'd finally remembered that the man she loved was also the man who had taken her away from home and family, the one who had made her cry and laugh and rage, who had offered her freedom, and when she had refused it, he'd given her the world instead.

Gold had been a good man, one who'd known little of darkness and grief, and Belle was glad to have known him. But it had been Rumpelstiltskin who had accepted her advances, and Rumpelstiltskin who had made the last weeks of the curse into something Belle French had been satisfied to call happiness.

Rumpelstiltskin would claim that there was no good in him, but his actions always spoke louder.

"I love you, too," she told him, responding to the words he'd left unsaid, laughing giddily when he held her tighter.

She was content to lie still, her head on his chest and their bodies pressed together. But after a few minutes, he stirred. "Hey, don't fall asleep, dear. There's a room for you," he said, already loosening his hands from around her waist.

Belle rubbed her nose against his shoulder. Hooked a leg over his. Didn't move otherwise. "I know."

 

The End  
02/09/16


	24. On Fashion Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for CreepyShetan at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/636656.html?thread=86809328#t86809328). Prompt: **"How many [any pattern or color] shirts do you own?!"**
> 
> (and no, nowhere near drabble-sized.)

Belle rooted into the drawer, pulling yet another plaid shirt with her fingertips and making a face at it. She let the garment dangle before her for a second, shaking her head, and then threw it on top of its twins. There was quite a pile building up already. "How many of these do you actually own?"

Rumpelstiltskin heaved a sigh. "Too many."

Belle cringed. Her cursed self had thought nothing of Mr. Gold's fashion sense - or lack thereof. He'd been powerful enough despite his old-fashioned looks, and it had been a little endearing, how blind he was to this little flaw when he was so sharp otherwise. 

Once she had woken up, Belle had spent a good half hour laughing herself silly at the thought of _Rumpelstiltskin_ \- he of the extravagant outfits and expensive silks and leathers - clad in those drab shirts. "I never understood how much Regina hated you," she said now, biting her inner cheek so as to avoid erupting into giggles again, "until I realized she'd had you wearing these for _thirty years_. The 'evil' queen, indeed!"

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "Considering her power over the curse, a little pettiness is almost a kindness, coming from her."

Belle gave him a thoughtful look, but stayed quiet. The relationship between Rumpelstiltskin and Regina was one she could never fully grasp. The two of them had never been friends - or even too friendly at all - and they had not been student and mentor since long before she'd come into the picture; but Regina would still come to him for help, and Rumpelstiltskin always gave the queen her fair dues.

And he was right. 

Regina could have thrown them with different lovers, as she'd done with princess Abigail (and David, of course, but Snow White's husband would have been the object of Regina's hate in any case; in Belle's mind, poor Abigail had been the innocent bystander in that war). Or she could have made the curse pull at the nastiest threads of their characters, and make them hate each other for three decades.

If Belle French had been scared of her own shadow, and Mr. Gold had been a little boring, at least they had still gravitated around each other.

She thought of that time with a little fondness, now.

"You're right. It wasn't always bad. I guess I could keep a couple of those-" she nodded to the shirts she'd spent the last hour culling from his wardrobe "-as a memento."

Rumpelstiltskin immediately shook his head, making her snicker at his urgency. "Please don't," he told her. "The only reason I haven't vanished the lot is because I pushed them to the back as soon as I woke."

Belle nodded. "To the fireplace they go, then."

He obviously liked that idea, as he came closer and put his arms around her, closing his hands right above her belly. "Hm. Wonder what we can do while that fire burns." He bent to nuzzle her neck. "Any ideas?"

Laughing, Belle covered his hands with hers. "One or two." 

 

The End  
07/07/15


	25. Kiss Me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for CozyCoffee at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/634515.html?thread=86646675#t86646675). Prompt: **kiss me**.
> 
> And again, this is a longer version.

_We can help you this time,_ Ruby had said, wearing the same expression of pity as she had at Queen Snow's wedding. Belle had willfully misunderstood the other girl, protested that the two take-out bags she was carrying weren't a problem at all, but Ruby had shaken her head and refused to take the hint.

Even her father had pointed out, oh so casually, that now she had an entire world to explore - and surely she was already planning her next destination as soon as they fixed the barrier at the town line?

And there were all the others who, more or less subtly, had wondered why she hadn't parted ways with the Dark One yet.

"People are idiots," Belle said now, not feeling that hungry anymore, and gave a huff when Rumpelstiltskin only raised an eyebrow and kept pouring ketchup onto his fries; yes, of course, he'd already known that. "It's like they can't accept the truth unless it's staring at them in the face. One day," she promised, unwilling to stand much more of being treated like a damsel who needed to realize she was in distress, "I will ask you to kiss me silly in the middle of a town meeting, and I won't let you say no."

His eyes widened a little at her vehemence, and after a moment of thought, his lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Can I get that in writing?"

 

The End  
07/07/15


	26. A Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for TigrisWolf at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/634515.html?thread=86629011#t86629011). Prompt: **[pronoun] smiles, says, "That was a mistake."**

If her cursed alter-ego could have understood what huge progress it had been every time her Mr. Gold had held her hand or brushed a soft kiss on her hair, she wouldn't have been so frustrated at the slow pace of their relationship. But Belle now remembered both her years living with Rumpelstiltskin in the Dark Castle, as well as the few months she'd spent as Mr. Gold's girlfriend, and she was taking every advantage he had granted her in this second role.

The good-night kiss she had initiated had quite nicely grown into a lengthy tangle of lips and tongues, and she was loving the feeling of his hands creeping down her back to their usual place at her waist, and then moving lower still.

A perfect end of her day, Belle thought. 

Or it could have been. 

But, true to form, Emma Swan swept in, demanding Rumpelstiltskin's presence and yelping when she caught sight of him. "Oh, you've got to be kidding - lock the door first!"

Belle couldn't help a snicker, and after the blonde tore away, she dropped her head on Rumpelstiltskin's chest and quietly said, still smiling, "That was a mistake." And before he could take her too seriously, she brought her hands to trace up from his shoulders to cup his cheeks, tugged him closer, and grinned mischievously. "Let's do it again."

His delighted laugh was encouragement enough.

  


The End  
03/07/15


	27. Remix: Rumpelstiltskin's pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [Lonely Prompts Week](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/704622.html) at Comment Fic. **Remix** of [this ficlet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4249161/chapters/9655824).

Rumpelstiltskin can't help a smirk as the Savior flees from his shop, a blush high on her cheeks even as she mutters about keeping things decent in a public space. Just proves that Emma comes from a different world, to think that anything that belongs to the Dark One could be considered 'public'!

He almost snorts out loud, but a forehead pressing against his chest stops him, and his attention veers back to Belle.

"That was a mistake," she says.

He freezes, suddenly aware that he's put her in an embarrassing position. But before he can plead for forgiveness, Belle's hands are bringing him closer until their noses brush together, and the dear girl is smiling at him as she says, "Let's do it again."

Rumpelstiltskin laughs, and happily does as instructed.

 

The End  
21/10/16


	28. S2A - What The Wolf Remembers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby is sure that she's made a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Alias_sd6. Prompt: (Chinese) Horoscope / Tiger

The diner after closing had been a nightmare during the curse, with Ruby striving to escape her chores while she squirmed under her grandmother's judgemental gaze. But now that their memories had returned, it was actually Ruby's favorite part of the day. They saw out the other waitresses and cook, and waited for any last-minute clients to finish their drinks and make their way back home.

The check under every table and chair was made quickly, to make sure there was nothing to add to their Found and Lost box, and after the tables were clean and the floor was swept, she and Granny retreated to the kitchen and spent the next hour in quiet company as they washed the last of the dishes.

Ruby was used to recapping the highlights of the day during this time, so she thought nothing of mentioning Belle's little mishap that morning. "I still can't believe she runs around in four-inch heels, but manages to spill a milkshake on herself when sitting down!"

Granny huffed, making no comment.

She had come to check on Belle that morning, just like she would have for any other customer, but had only told her to be more careful, and to use the restroom to clean the sticky pink mess off her blouse if she couldn't wait until she returned to her apartment across the street and had more privacy. 

There had been no offer for a free refill, Ruby remembered now.

"Why don't you like Belle, Granny?"

Her grandmother turned to her, raising an eyebrow well over the edge of her glasses. "Everybody knows she goes home to that wretch and you still ask me?"

Ruby winced at the cutting tone. Granny had never met Belle in the Enchanted Forest, but she'd made her disapproval heard once she found out that the Dark One's maid had refused sanctuary in Snow's lands. Obviously the girl must have been tainted by the dark power, she'd said at the council meeting, and better to write her off with a clear conscience.

"You can't save those who refuse to be saved, Snow," she'd told their queen, and though David had tried a few more times, in the end the matter of the Evil Queen's curse had taken precedence and Belle's fate remained in Rumpelstiltskin's hands.

Perhaps Red's opinion would have mirrored her grandmother's, if she hadn't been assigned to escort the girl at all times before and during Snow's wedding (and hadn't that been a sign that the Dark One regarded Belle over others, as he not only accepted the invitation careful monarchs sent to every magic-wielder in the realm to avoid inadvertent insults, but had sent her in his stead?)

Ruby had never spoken up in Belle's defense before they came to Storybrooke. It didn't seem worth a disagreement with Granny when it was unlikely that her path and Belle's would cross again. But here they were, in this small town where Belle often visited their diner at lunchtime, and several times a week asked for two to go.

Ruby still worried about the other woman, but not because she believed that Belle might have been poisoned by her master's dark arts.

"She is nice," she told Granny.

"Huh?"

"Belle. Belle French, now." Ruby tried to smile, as if insisting on bringing the Dark One's girlfriend up in conversation was something she did everyday. "I mean, she was nice then too, but now... I told her about the wolf, and she didn't even bat an eye. She _helped_ me, Granny."

"And her lover was quick to charge us for it."

But Belle hadn't asked for anything, just told her that everything would be fine and promised to convince Rumpelstiltskin to help - and warned her that the help wouldn't come cheaply, and was she sure she needed magicked chains to hold her?

Without her cloak, fearing another night with the wolf running rampage, Ruby had been desperate enough to say yes.

"He hid me where I couldn't harm anyone," Ruby said. "How do you repay someone for that?"

Granny twisted her mouth. "It would mean something if he did it out of the goodness of his heart," she retorted, "but he doesn't have any."

 _But it's not that easy,_ Ruby thought, remembering Belle's - and later Rumpelstiltskin's - words. _Magic always has a price._

"I was actually with them for a whole night," Ruby reminded her grandmother. The wolf's memories were usually hazy, but a furious Rumpelstiltskin had made enough of an impression to carry over to her human time. "I think.... I think he is actually fond of her. He cares, Granny. He would have ripped out my throat for scaring Belle, and he didn't because she asked him not to."

There was a moment of silence, but finally Granny shook her head decisively. "If that's true," and the quiet snort said that she didn't believe it, "then that girl has a tiger by the tail. See if she doesn't get bitten soon!"

Ruby blinked, startled by the image that jumped in her mind: Belle sitting in her garden, a large feline resting his head on her lap. From what she'd seen of the Dark One when he believed he was alone with Belle, the only biting in his mind would be playful. And, if Belle's reaction to him was a sign, quite pleasurable. "Oh, I don't think a tail is the appendage Belle's holding," Ruby said, not forgetting for a second that her grandmother had hearing as sharp as hers, but unable to keep it to herself.

Granny made a weird noise, slamming the pile of dishes she'd been putting away onto the nearest counter.

It took Ruby a moment to recognize it as laughter. 

"Perhaps he's just as much a man as any other, then," Granny said at last, having composed herself, but she was shaking her head. "But that doesn't make him a good one."

And by extension, neither could Belle be.

Ruby disagreed, but what other proof could she offer?

 

The End  
28/08/16


	29. Rumpelstiltskin: Holding On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set on the voyage from New York to Storybrooke.

He could hear them, sometimes. Oh, he couldn't catch the meaning of their words, or really follow the mood of their conversation, but their voices drifted into his consciousness at random moments, a welcome change from the fever and pain.

His son's voice - no longer the boyish tones of his memory, but a stranger's. Each time Bae spoke reminded him of all he'd missed, all the years he should have been by his son's side and wasn't. Guilt was a familiar companion, breaking his heart with more accuracy than any poison. But it was pushed back by the knowledge that he had found his boy, at last; that Bae had boarded this cursed ship and was coming with them.

That meant there was hope. 

That feeling was a newer one, to be carefully probed to make sure of its existence. But there it was, blossoming under a loving caress against his cheek, the tender touch as his hair was pulled back away from his face.

_Belle._

Her voice was a softer murmur now, unwilling to wake him. But he knew the true strength of it, the ways it tilted and called his name without the slightest hint of fear. The sound of it reminded him of a thousand conversations in the Dark Castle and a thousand more in Storybrooke. Belle had liked him, long before he would acknowledge that he could be liked. She had loved him, when he would have mocked her for such foolishness. She had teased him and laughed with him, when the world was content to pelt him with reviling shouts or pitiful whimpers. 

She would be worried now, even as she held him and offered what comfort she could. But he could make her laugh, he knew that. He could make her happy.

Cursed or whole, she had chosen him.

Yes. That must be hope. 

A little thing, wasn't it? So very fragile.

But it was his.

Thinking of Bae could still bring back all the regrets of the past, but that was not the entire picture of his life anymore. It didn't matter that the poison was spreading through his bloodstream, weakening him further as it inched its way to his heart. It didn't matter that it wouldn't answer to magic, for all he'd told the others that he could get a cure in Storybrooke.

It didn't matter that he was dying.

Because Rumpelstiltskin refused to give up just yet. He hadn't just found his son and won Belle's trust to let them go so easily. There had to be a way around this, some deal still to be made. There was always a trick to be played, and if he must cheat to get the winning hand, then so be it. He just had to keep his eyes open, and grasp onto whatever advantage presented itself. 

Or create one out of thin air, if he must do that again.

At last, he had everything he wanted, and he'd damn the world (again) to hold onto it.

 

The End  
15/07/15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the conversation between Belle and Neal here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4135530/chapters/9842624


	30. Season 3A - True Love's Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle French recovers her memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for simplythedarkone. Prompt: The Way You Love Me

A wave of Gold's hand, and suddenly everyone stopped talking. Belle jumped when she realized that it wasn't a silencing spell, but that Regina and the others were frozen in place. She looked around, eyes widening as no one twitched as much as a finger. She had seen his power, the small spells he'd used to convince her that magic was real, and the one that had saved their lives here in Neverland, but never had she seen him strike at someone on their side. 

"Gold?"

"They'll be all right," he reassured her. "Just give me a minute before we go on?"

From Gold's perspective, it was always better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission. If he apologized at all. So it took Belle a moment to understand that he was waiting for an answer, and that if she'd insisted they needed to move on without delay, he would free the others.

He had tried to talk to her in private since Henry had been found, but every attempt had been interrupted by a new danger or one of the others walking in on them.

It seemed he had run out of patience.

"What's wrong?"

He let out a breath, then came closer to catch her hands in his. "Nothing. Nothing at all. I just--- I want to try. One last time."

The eagerness in his voice let her know what he meant.

True Love's Kiss.

The elusive magic that would give her back her memories.

"What makes you think it'll work now?"

"We're on a land with magic of its own. Isn't that worth a try?"

"So we're down to wild shots," Belle translated, and then smiled sadly at the thought of a man who could do the impossible lowering himself to pulling at straws. "Do you miss her that much?"

To her shock, Gold shook his head. "I love you, Belle. All of you." He gave a small shrug. "I love you enough to want you to remember my mistakes too, and all the times I've failed you. There's more to us than our life in Storybrooke, and you're the only one who understands that."

Belle looked down at their joined hands. "I can't expect you to love me," she said softly, "when I'm not that woman anymore."

"Oh, sweetheart." His grasp tightened for one second, before he let her loose. She wasn't left bereft for long, as Gold moved to tip her face up toward him, hands cupping her jaw gently. "Do you think I can doubt who you are? I have seen this story from beginning to end. I know what we've been to each other. You love me, don't you?" he asked, gazing at her tenderly, and waited for a nod before he continued. "Exactly. You know who I really am, no matter what role you've seen me take. The monster or the man, at the height of my power or suffering for want of painkillers, you've seen everything I am. It doesn't matter that you don't remember all of it, Belle. Nothing changes the way you love me." He took a step closer, leaning a little to press his forehead against hers. "So please don't tell me that it could change the way I love you."

Belle closed her eyes, and because she wanted to believe him, brushed her lips against his cheek. When he gasped at her wordless acquiescence, she turned his breath into a deep kiss, pressing against him and wishing he could really love her as much as he claimed.

Her eyes filled with tears when nothing happened.

"Hey," Gold said, arms around her now, stopping her from putting some distance in-between. "It's okay."

"But it didn't work!"

His chuckle was the last reaction she expected. But Gold was kissing her nose, no regret in his expression. "It's okay," he repeated. "As long as I have you, nothing else matters."

Belle forced herself to say the words: "You may never get her back."

"Oh, Belle. There is no 'her'. There's only _you_." He caressed her cheek. "There was always only you."

Now that the last chance for her memories to return was gone, Gold's sincerity finally sunk in. "You really love me," she whispered in amazement, laughing because she felt that truth down to her soul, and didn't wait for his nod before she was diving in for another kiss.

The touch of his lips against hers made her sigh in joy. She would keep this man, because she loved him and he truly loved her back. They would return to Storybrooke, and they'd live happily-ever-after....

That was the last thought Belle French had, before she let out a loud gasp and the memories of her true life rushed back. It was Belle, daughter of Lord Maurice and maid to the Dark One, who stepped back from the kiss, smiling at her True Love. "Hello, Rumple."

And Rumpelstiltskin gazed at her in disbelief, and then gathered her in his arms before he twirled her around, laughing as he kissed her cheeks, her brow, her eyes.... "Thank you," he said, once he let her feet touch the ground again. "Thank you for believing in me."

Belle curled her arms around his neck, aware now that he had known what was holding her cursed self back and yet had never blamed her. "Thank _you_ ," she told him, "for loving me until I did."

 

The End  
25/06/16


	31. A Matter of Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for woodelf68. Prompt: porcupine

Belle waited until her fiancé had wandered out of earshot. Walking to the diner and back would take him only a few minutes, and that was because she'd given him a pleading look not to use his magic as a shortcut. At least there had been a reasonable excuse to send him away, as Ruby was the only waitress at Granny's who would deliver their order, and Ruby had been assigned to dishwashing duty for a week after she'd socked Whale's nose in during her shift on Saturday night.

Granny did not like it when someone threatened the unofficial standing of her diner as a neutral zone (though everyone knew that the doctor was avoiding Main Street, and would as long as Granny's eyes strayed to her crossbow every time someone mentioned him).

At least Rumpelstiltskin would have a fine time dealing with the older woman's temper.

He might think the extra entertainment recompense enough for being exiled from the apartment.

Mentally apologizing to Granny, Belle promised to put the time to good use. Baelfire had been staring at her when he thought she wouldn't notice (As if she had no experience with brown, earnest gazes weighing her worth and then turning away in confusion when she didn't meet their expectations.) She left the box she had been packing, and walked into his line of vision, calling his attention with a soft cough. "What is it?"

Baelfire blinked, already shaking his head.

With a wry chuckle, Belle gave him a look. "You're a worse liar than your father, you know. I didn't think that was possible."

His eyes widened in surprise. "I'm--- really?"

Belle nodded, but stopped when she thought of an exception. "Unless he's lying to himself, too. Then it gets tricky."

He glanced at her consideringly. "And you don't mind?"

"If it's important, I'll find out."

"You seem at ease with that," Baelfire noted. When she nodded, he completed his thought, "you didn't use to be."

Belle raised her head, ready to protest that she had always trusted Rumpelstiltskin. Honesty forced her to admit, "You mean while I was... under the curse...?" She shook her head. "I didn't remember a lot of things I've learned about your father, and most of it had been learned the hard way, either to my cost or his. Didn't help that Rumple delayed telling me for as long as he could. Every time he acted outside how I knew him as Mr. Gold, I was so afraid something was wrong."

"...was it?"

Belle gave him an exasperated look. "Of course. Didn't you hear me? My memories were gone!"

"So what, now you _know_ Dad?"

His blatant skepticism made Belle's eyes widen. "Is that really so hard to believe?"

The emphatic snort was answer enough. There was a hint of pity in his eye, and that was the last straw.

"You really don't believe me."

"That Dad would let someone get so close? I'm sorry, Belle. But no, I don't."

Belle tried not to take it as an insult. He wasn't calling her a liar; just a naïve optimist. Besides, this was Rumpelstiltskin's son, and if he were anything like his father (and he was), beating some sense into him would take several attempts and enough proof that he wouldn't be able to dismiss it as an accident.

It had taken her years to convince a solitary man to trust her.

She only had a few minutes to push Baelfire in the right direction before Rumpelstiltskin returned with their lunch. "Hey, Bae. Do you know how to hold a porcupine without gloves?"

He squinted at her. "Is this a metaphor?"

"It's a question."

"A trick question," he pointed out. "No one would even try, and those too insane to know better would spend an evening with their hands bandaged after one attempt."

"Why?"

Bae stared. "Long pointy quills embedded in your skin? I'd say that's deterrent enough for me."

"Even if they're part of it?"

Baelfire scowled. "I'd still be the one getting hurt."

"Even if it's done in self-defense?"

"I'm not trying to attack him!" Baelfire burst out. Then he took a deep breath, shook his head. "Look, Belle. I know you're trying to help, but maybe it's better if you stay out of this. Papa and I..." He sighed, visibly at a loss for words.

"Just one more, I promise," Belle said. "What if you tried to do it gently, holding the porcupine?"

"I'd still be afraid it would attack me," Bae answered. "Porcupines don't know better."

Belle nodded, reaching out to touch his arm so he'd look at her. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "They don't," she agreed, "and like I told you, this _isn't_ a metaphor."

It took a second for her meaning to sink in. A reluctant grin appeared on his face. "That's some roundabout way to make a point. How long have you lived with Dad, again?"

"Long enough," Belle admitted, but then returned to her main point. "Rumple loves you so much, Bae. And he trusts you already." She gave a wry grin. She would never envy Rumpelstiltskin's son for his place in his father's heart. But even she could wish that she hadn't had such a bitter fight to make her own. "Believe me, you only have to make sure that he knows you care too."

 

The End  
07/10/16


	32. S3B - Tic Toc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Alias_Sd6. Prompt: post-it

Rumpelstiltskin might be the most powerful wizard in the realm - an achievement that admittedly sounded less impressive than it should, when one considered he now lived in the Land Without Magic - but all the potions and spells he'd mastered seemed like easy grade school assignments compared to the stubborn innards of a cuckoo clock that required all his concentration and still refused to work.

At this point, he was tempted to blame a curse. No matter how many times he placed each piece in its place, either the hands refused to work once he wound it, or they marked an off beat.

A single twitch of his fingers would solve any problem, of course. Mechanical or magical. But the objective here was not to prove his power, but to exercise his patience and put his brains to the test.

Considering the foes (and the less likeable allies) he'd faced in the last months, this clock might be his best hope for a challenge.

He was on his fifth - seventh? - attempt when a brief flare of cyan shocked him enough to drop both the clock in his left hand and the tool he was maneuvering with the right. A quick freezing spell avoided a disaster, and the bit of smoke that had swirled over his wrist cleared.

In its place there was a square note of bright blue paper. On it, his wife's careful cursive read:

_Be home by eight o'clock._

Rumpelstiltskin glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 7:31pm already, almost a half hour after the time he usually walked into their home. He had been distracted for far longer than he'd supposed.

With a thought, he returned his tools to their boxes and allowed the malfunctioning piece to land on the table on its feet. He could fiddle with it some more the next day; for now, he had a summons to answer.

Still with a few minutes to spare, he picked the small post-it and examined it. There was no damage done to its edges, no marks of a burn or tears. Already better than the little notes Belle had sent him in the castle, bits of paper following his trace until they poofed before him, letting him know that dinner would be late, or announcing a new visitor that required the Dark One's presence.

But her messages usually had trouble reaching him unless they were both in the same building.

This time Belle had either managed to send the note all the away across town, or she had spelled his coat in the morning, while he was still in the shower, and added a timing spell to activate it past a certain time. Either way it meant a considerable improvement in her abilities.

Which meant that this was no mere request from a fond wife to a distracted husband, but a reminder that he'd promised to celebrate her achievements.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled, wondering what Belle would demand of him this time. A bouquet of handpicked wildflowers? A dinner for two somewhere other than Granny's? A weekend in the cabin?

His smile brightened further with each possibility.

Far from him to deny his loveliest student the prize she deserved.

 

The End  
27/10/16


	33. Busted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Yuidirnt at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/636656.html?thread=86807280#t86807280). Prompt: **clothed sex**
> 
> (and it got longer than 100 words. oops?)

Belle could feel the bright blush that heated her cheeks, but she refused to give in to the embarrassment and held her chin up instead. They were all adults here, and they _had_ locked the door this time.

At least they'd still had most of their clothes on, when the Charmings had started hollering their names.

Rumpelstiltskin had slammed a barrier on the connecting door, and barked back to get the hell away.

They hadn't listened, of course. They never did.

Now Belle smoothed down her skirt, confident in the fact that nobody could tell her underwear was somewhere under the furniture one room over. _They might not have even noticed, anyway,_ Belle thought hopefully. Though from the look Emma was giving Rumpelstiltskin's tie-less collar while her parents were arguing with him, one of them at least suspected. That Belle had come out from the back room first to face them, while Rumpelstiltskin needed another minute to join her, had probably been a dead giveaway.

Everyone knew the Dark One loved dealing with intruders himself.

Oh well. Emma was a big girl. It couldn't be worse than the time she'd walked in on her parents, right? (And how Belle had giggled when she'd overheard that tidbit at the diner!) It would serve her well for using her talents to invade someone else's privacy.

Belle straightened when Emma's gaze drifted to her. _Breaking and entering now, Miss Swan?_

If the words had been said out loud, they would have borrowed her husband's most scornful tone.

 _I know what you were doing in there,_ Emma signaled back.

Her eyebrows arched into a taunting look. _Jealous?_

With a glare, Emma huffed and turned her attention back to the loud discussion in the middle of the room.

Belle smiled to herself, proud of her little victory, and made a mental note to ask Rumpelstiltskin to add a spell to the physical locks the next time. Because there was always a next time, and there was always something the Charmings needed their help for.

They were welcome to the shop - within reasonable limits.

But if the royal family ever tried this stunt in their home, Belle wouldn't complain when Rumpelstiltskin turned them into slugs.

 

The End  
07/07/15


	34. 3B - Party Decoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Bae's birthday. 
> 
> Goes with [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4249161/chapters/17220052).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for AnonymousNerdGirl. **Prompt:** balloon.

Rumpelstiltskin could feel a headache coming the moment he stepped into his living room. The explosion of color made him blink in surprise, but he had to bite down a snarl at the sight of the bright yellow sign covering his favorite paintings on the wall. "Now breakfast in bed suddenly makes a lot more sense," he commented dryly, poking one of the nearby empty boxes with his cane. "Buttering me up, sweetheart?"

From her seat on the couch, surrounded by green, yellow, and white streams of paper, his wife smiled sheepishly. "We have breakfast in bed often."

"Yes. And usually I'm the one to wake up first, dabble in the kitchen, and carry the results upstairs. Without hidden motivation." At the quirk of her eyebrow, he shook his head unapologetically. "Oh no, you can't say my reasons are not obvious, my dear," his voice lowered until the endearment was a soft rumble.

The red that flared in her cheeks in response made his bad mood take a step to the side.

It had been impossible to stay mad at Belle when she'd left little disasters in her wake as she learned the duties of a maid. It was foolishness to believe that he could even work up as much as a glare when his wife was smiling like that.

"You said it would be a small meeting, Belle."

Even then he had agreed to it being held in his house only because it was for Bae. He had celebrated his son's birthday in his absence for centuries, and he would have preferred to invite him for a quiet dinner at home. But his boy had other commitments now, most notably a child of his own, and he would rather share the day with the other branches of Henry's family tree than miss out on seeing his son at all.

"It will be. Small. _Very_ small." Belle assured him, but he noticed how she pushed some of the bags of balloons behind her. "I just thought some decorations would make it more fun."

He gave a pointed look at the Happy Birthday sign on the wall. And the grinning lion waving from it.

"Isn't it fun?"

"He's not turning seven, Belle."

"He will love it and you know it."

Rumpelstiltskin actually doubted that Baelfire would like a surprise party at all. His son had grown into a quiet man; friendly, yes, but not one to enjoy being the center of attention. He had mentioned that before, but Belle had brushed it aside and charged ahead with her usual optimism. After a few attempts, he had given up. Previous experience proved that Belle learned more quickly from her mistakes. He'd rather save steering her away from bad decisions when it was important for her well-being.

Instead he looked around the room, lifting his cane to twirl it around one of the bunches of streamers hanging from the ceiling. He pulled it aside as he approached the couch, just to come up with another bunch nearly at eyesight level after three steps.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I... might have gone overboard."

Rumpelstiltskin gave a small smile at that, relieved. The smile dimmed when he noticed that she wasn't moving to remove any of it. "Belle...."

"Help me with the balloons?"

He stared at her. "Sweetheart...."

A small balloon inflator appeared in her hand, and she offered it to him with a smile. "Just a couple dozen or so. I don't have time for more, anyway." 

"I don't think...."

"I'll make you a deal, Rumple."

He couldn't help it. His attention perked up at that word.

Belle grinned, well aware of her husband's quirks. "What about I owe you a kiss for each balloon you help me set up?"

The amount of bags around her doubled.

Belle giggled. "The deal is struck?"

Rumpelstiltskin started nodding, but he stopped in mid-motion, tilting his head as his eyes roved over her figure. "It could be, yes. _Or_."

Belle fidgeted, biting her lower lip at the obvious turn of his thoughts. "Or...?"

He leaned on his cane, the move as much of an affectation as the trilling laughter had been in the Enchanted Forest. "As a businessman, I have found that the best option is to avoid making small payments." His voice was grave, and anyone else would believe he was unaffected. Belle knew better, so she waited for the rest. "Instead, I would recommend settling the whole debt at once."

"Is that your professional advice?"

"The best you'll find, dearie."

Belle smiled knowingly at that, but then shrugged with regret. "I meant it when I said I didn't have a lot of time."

A wave of his hand, and all the balloons were dotting the walls, ceiling, and even the furniture.

Belle laughed. She caught her husband's expectant gaze and nodded, rising to her feet and reaching out to take his hand, laughing harder when instead he tossed the cane aside, grabbed her by the hips and pulled her flush against him. "One big payment, eh?"

Rumpelstiltskin grinned back. "Or maybe two."

 

The End  
22/08/16


	35. Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Season Four. It's Neal's birthday, and he will join the festivities whether he wants to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ties with [Memories](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4135530/chapters/17050659).

Neal yelped when a sharp slap landed on his knuckles, urging him to desist from working out the complicated knot at the back of his head. "Come on," he whined, ignoring his son's snickers. "Aren't I too old for this?"

"Nope," Henry informed him, not in the least surprised at Belle's violent streak.

The little traitor had chosen his Aunt Belle's side, and what had been supposed to be a simple game had turned into being kidnapped, shoved into a car, and marched across what Neal highly suspected was his father's front yard.

He was never letting Henry talk him into playing blind man's buff again.

"This is so embarrassing," he mumbled, hoping he wouldn't trip and break his nose.

Though an emergency trip to the hospital sounded tempting.

"It's your birthday," Belle said cheerily, "that means we'll have a nice meal and enjoy the day as a family. It's tradition."

Neal frowned. It was the first time he spent his birthday in Storybrooke. "No, it's not."

"Well, okay. This year there will be more people than Rumple and I, and you will actually be there to celebrate with us. About time!" Belle huffed. Then slapped his hand down again. "I swear, Baelfire, if you undo that blindfold, I'm going to tell everyone how you got the scar on the back of your hand."

Immediately he felt Henry's smaller hand hold his closer up for inspection. "Dad?"

"An encounter with a wild animal," he told his son, and didn't need Belle's soft snort to remember the goose who'd protested a child's curiosity with a bite and, when a shocked Bae had stumbled down and fallen on his ass, the damned fowl had regally stepped up and over him. He still swore it had sunk its claws into his flesh on purpose. His father, witness to the sorry affair, had fretted over him for five whole minutes before determining that he would survive... and then he had chuckled over his son's misfortune. "I can't believe Papa told you about that," he said to Belle.

He could imagine her grin as she answered, "And there's more where that came from."

It was official. He had a wicked stepmother of his own.

Belle laughed when he said so out loud. "Well, now you can't protest that you aren't a proper fairytale character!" she countered. Then she put a hand on his elbow, subtly guiding him to where he could already hear the buzz of familiar voices. "Your father resisted the idea in the beginning as well," she said softly enough that the words stayed between adults. "You don't think he jumped at the chance to have the Charmings over, do you?"

His father, who protected his privacy from everyone except wife and son. "Guess not."

"I'll make you the same deal I did your father," Belle continued. "Just try it first. If you really don't like it, I'll never mention it again."

It sounded fair enough, so Neal nodded.

"You'll love it, Dad. There will be _cake_ ," Henry enthused, tugging on his hand to hasten their pace. "I helped Belle make it."

"That's lovely," Neal said sincerely, "but you didn't need to go to so much trouble. I don't mind store-bought."

"Nuh-uh. We always have homemade cake," Belle said, this time in a normal tone of voice, "and this year you'll get to blow the candles and make a wish. It'll be _perfect_."

Neal thought he wanted a list of all these traditions he'd missed. He wouldn't want to be caught off-guard again.

"I'm doing this under duress," he warned the two conspirators.

"Yes, of course." Belle patted his elbow again. "You poor thing, being dragged over to have some fun." Then she chuckled. "Like father, like son indeed."

That treat must have skipped a generation, because Henry tugged even harder.

"Ready?" his boy asked as they finished climbing the porch steps, and didn't wait for an answer as he pushed the door open. Immediately a chorus of 'Happy Birthday!' greeted him.

He instinctively sought out Emma's voice, and the expression on his face must have been enough to prompt her to come forward, because a moment later her quick fingers were unknotting the blindfold. "Thank you," he told her, and Emma gave him a quick smile before she stepped backwards to join the rest of the guests.

It was a small crowd. Emma, her parents, and a few friends. But in comparison to the lonely decades spent on his own, Neal had to admit it that it felt great to see proof that people cared about him.

He was about to thank everybody for coming over, when a tight hug enveloped him.

"Son," his father rasped, holding him tighter.

Neal returned the hug, and when it was over he turned to Belle. "Broken ribs are a tradition as well?"

His father looked in confusion between them, but Belle smiled softly and squeezed Neal's arm affectionately before stepping forward to stand at her husband's side. 

"No," she said, "It's what's been missing until now."

 

The End  
23/07/16


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written at [Comment fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/734382.html?thread=97178286#t97178286). Prompt: **bathing suit**

Rumpelstiltskin swallowed thickly, unable to form thoughts into words even as Belle awaited his opinion, and aware that he looked like a gawking fool as his gaze followed helplessly along the bits of string cleverly knotted together to form an outfit that, in this world, passed as a bathing suit.

"You like it!" Belle cried out, tottering over to him on bare feet so she had to strain a bit to kiss his cheek. "I thought it was a bit... well... too much." She laughed, tugging up the thin fabric that cupped her breasts, and frowning when they didn't stay in place. "I really don't think one could swim in these."

Rumpelstiltskin glanced down, gulped down a whimper at all that showcased expanse of soft skin, and forced himself to _think_.

"Uh-huh," he managed.

Belle's eyes lifted back to him, and her lips twitched at the expression on his face. "It's too much," she decided, whirling around and heading back to the bathroom to change. "There's another one with more -" she waved over her chest and midriff "- coverage."

That finally broke through his muted wonder. "That one is fine," he said.

It wasn't a whine, he told himself. The Dark One didn't _whine_.

Belle laughed, but moved back into the circle of his arms. "Might I remind you that I'm getting ready for a... how did Henry put it? Oh yes. A 'family outing to the beach'. Because apparently that boy has picked up on some distance between his mother's and his father's parents and he's decided we all need to spend time together without almost getting killed or anyone threatening bodily harm on another."

"But they deserved it," he insisted.

Belle only rolled her eyes. "I know. Shocker. But Henry wants us to get along, and Rumple?" Her hands grabbed onto the lapels of his coat, and she pulled him in enough to whisper against his lips. "What that boy wants, he gets."

Rumpelstiltskin nodded with ease, used to Belle spoiling the boy she'd had a hand in raising for ten years. But then he grinned, taking advantage of her willing closeness to reach out and find the small knot that held her top together at her back. "What about what _I_ want, my love?"

Belle must have felt the knot giving way under his hands, but she only crossed her arms around his neck. "Do you really want me to wear this tomorrow, in public, in front of everybody out for a good time on a summer day? Where your son _and_ his buddy-slash-competition-for-Emma's-affections will see me?" A scowl surged at the mention of Hook, but Belle pressed herself closer to distract him and nuzzled against his throat in approval when he sighed, let go of the loose bits of string and swept his hand down along her spine to the small of her back, where his fingers found and played with the thin elastic. "Hmm?" A soft nibble at his jaw reminded him of Belle's question. "Do you?"

"No," he admitted. "But maybe we can get a pool in the backyard?"

Belle shook her head. "And who'd tell Henry he and his friends couldn't borrow it?"

Rumpelstiltskin grimaced at the vision of half a dozen teenagers invading his personal space (and to a man who'd lived alone in the middle of the mountains for decades, the space allotted to his home in Storybrooke was already too small). "I'll think of something."

Belle straightened enough to look at him, an eager light in her eyes. "There's that big bathtub..."

Rumpelstiltskin laughed. "Always knew you were the smart one."


	37. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby wants to know what Belle is planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for white-throated-packrat. Prompt: fish sticks

Belle tried to bat Ruby's hand away from her shopping basket, but the other woman's reflexes were quicker and she only laughed at Belle's efforts. "Aw, come on. I could smell the latex from an aisle away," she told her friend, looking torn between a playful wink and a disturbed frown. Finally she settled for a shrug. "What could be worse than knowing you're planning sexy times with Gold?"

Belle couldn't help the blush rising up her cheeks. "Ruby!"

Ruby grinned. "So... what do we have there? Ice-cream? Chocolate fudge? Strawberries and..." Her brow furrowed in confusion when she finally saw what was in the basket. "....fish sticks?"

The square yellow box of processed food made a strange companion to the little cluster of condom packages in the bottom.

Belle heaved a sigh. "Happy now?"

"I thought you guys... were really into it." She made some hand gestures that Belle hoped weren't actually related to sexual intercourse. "Wasn't that what the lecture was about?"

"It wasn't a lecture," Belle muttered, grabbing onto her friend's arm and pulling her to the back of the shop. It was bad enough that they were discussing about her private life in public, _again_ , she remembered that Ruby didn't have a low-volume setting when she wanted to make a point. If she was going to have this conversation, she would do it where no one would overhear. "I just wanted to clear some misunderstandings."

"Like the fact that you _like_ boinking the Dark One. See? I haven't forgotten! And believe me, I tried to."

"Tune it down, Rubes." 

Ruby let out a long sigh. "Fiiiiine."

When they reached the last row of shelves, Belle stopped and turned to face her friend. "Look. I know you're just joking around, but can you _not_?"

"Belle..."

"No. I mean it, Ruby. People already stare. They don't like Rumple, and aside from a few exceptions, they don't like me either." Ruby started to protest, but Belle gave her a look. "Does Granny like me, Rubes? Really. Is she glad you and I are friends?"

Ruby glanced at the ceiling. "She doesn't hate you," she mumbled.

Belle nodded, unsurprised. "Guess that's a step above most others, anyway," she said, resigned to her reputation as the Dark One's wife. "I know people tell tales behind my back. Do you think I want to give them fodder for gossip?"

Understanding washed over Ruby's expression. "Guess not."

"Exactly."

"...and I'm not helping, am I?"

Belle gave her a forgiving smile. "Just... remember we're not Snow and David, okay? None of the love and respect; more like abject fear and digs where we can't hear them."

Ruby winced. "Now I feel bad."

"Hey, it's okay. We can still talk about something else while I finish my shopping."

That made the taller girl perk up. "So the fish sticks weren't everything?" At the look Belle gave her, she raised her hands in innocence. "Just worried here! I work at a diner, remember? I know those things aren't a healthy base for a diet."

Doing a quick look around, Belle checked that they were still alone. "Well, it seemed like a good idea. There's a long weekend coming up, after all."

"You guys have plans and they do _not_ include complicated cooking," Ruby lowered her voice conspiratorially, laughing when Belle didn't deny that theory. "Gotcha." 

Belle elbowed her as hard as she could. "Whatever. I just thought of a last-minute addition anyway."

"Oh?"

"Dessert section." Belle grinned. "I have a sudden craving for ice cream... and maybe a couple other things."

 

The End  
24/08/16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've got a Tumblr account, I usually have a 'prompt me' post going on. Look for @leni-ba.


	38. S3B - Bad Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Little Inkstone. Prompt: excitable

As she opened the door of the pawnshop, Belle had to scramble to a side so as not to be hit by the man that almost trampled over her on his way out. “Out of my way, sister,” Leroy muttered in an irritated grumble, more a warning than a request for passage as he stomped by.

Belle gazed after him, frowning because even if he wasn't a friend, he had started to make an effort to be polite since Nova insisted she was happy in her job as the Golds' maid. 

But clearly Leroy's manners were the last thing on his mind now.

Curious, she turned toward the counter at the back of the store, lifting an eyebrow at her husband. "What was that?"

Rumpelstiltskin's eyes twinkled with merriment. " _That_ was an easily excitable dwarf, happy to have another reason to hate me."

“Doesn’t look too happy to me,” she commented.

“Oh? My mistake.”

Belle had to chuckle at his expression. Sometimes he was more like a kid who couldn't resist pulling on a cat's tail, than the terror of the Enchanted Forest making shady deals. "Let me guess, you wouldn't lower the rent of the apartment Nova has her sights set upon?"

"Why, my dear. That would be bad business," he said in his most reasonable tone. "The man has six brothers, and they would all expect the same treatment."

Her husband was smiling now, obviously happy to see her, but Belle knew that Leroy would have been faced with a smirk and a tap of his fingers against the countertop in a show of impatience. No wonder he had left in a huff. 

"And did you happen to mention that Nova deserves a raise, and it just happens to allow them to move wherever they want?"

Rumpelstiltskin's smile brightened. He even tittered a little. "Oops?"

 

The End  
26/09/16


	39. A Cup of Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Alias_sd6. Prompt: coffee

Granny was pressing the coffeepot into Ruby's hands as soon as she'd tied the apron about her waist. 

"Here," said her grandmother, "I don't know what Gold is doing here this early-" and her opinion on that unexpected break of routine was clear in her annoyed voice, though luckily her own bad mood kept her from seeing that Ruby's groan of dismay was due to a different cause-"but he's been snarling at the other girls, and if I go out there and he makes me snarl back, I'm not stopping until I have his head mounted on my wall."

Ruby cringed. She had been about to claim the plague in order to avoid Gold, but with Granny in a temper, she had no choice. "Sure," she said, taking a deep breath. It took a single glance around the room to know where Gold was sitting, as it was the one spot that seemed to have become invisible, with everyone studiously avoiding glancing at it.

Why couldn't it have been Belle, come today to clear the air? With Belle, Ruby could have made a joke, teased her a little, and gratefully put last night into the past.

Instead it was Belle's husband who'd braved the morning crowd - and scared them into a wide circle around him - to see her.

Ruby swallowed thickly, but squared her shoulders and walked in. "Good morning, Mr. Gold," she said, her voice brighter than she had expected, as she poured him a cup.

"Miss Lucas," he acknowledged her.

Neither of them met each other's eyes.

Ruby blamed her supernatural hearing. It was sharp enough to have picked up the noises of a scuffle in the alley behind the pawnshop, but not to help her discern its character. Really, no concerned neighbor could be faulted for rushing in after a few loud groans were added to the mix.

Thank the gods the only missing piece of clothing had been a coat and a few buttons down Gold's shirt.

(And between that peek and the hunger in his eyes before he'd sensed an intruder, Ruby now had no questions about her friend being a happily married woman.)

"Erm..." She shifted on her heels. The thought of bringing up her mistake occurred to her, but she had a feeling that she'd say the wrong thing, Gold would take offense, and her grandmother's diner would go up in flames. Denial it was, then. "Will that be all?"

Gold's fingers tapped a tattoo on the table. 

On any other person, Ruby would have chalked it up to awkwardness. Now she only hoped it wasn't a prelude to a fireball. She still didn't move, refusing to run away like a scared ninny when he hadn't done anything except frown.

At last he raised the cup for a sip, then wrinkled his nose and set it back down.

No, Gold had definitely not come for his caffeine fix.

"Belle insists that you're a good friend," he said, his voice so low that only a wolf could have heard him.

Ruby was nodding before she realized it had not been a question. "She is great," she said anyway. "I'm glad to be her friend."

Gold turned to her, eyebrow slightly raised as he considered her words. "You're loyal to your friends," he said at last.

"When you can count on one hand the people who'd trust you under a full moon night, you don't hurt them for the world." She could read the note of skepticism at her words. "I may be under control," she explained, "but I'm still a monster."

A corner of his mouth lifted in apparent amusement.

"That we are, dearie," he said with a wry chuckle. Then he was rising to his feet. "Have a good morning, Miss Lucas," he said as he walked past her.

Ruby stared after him, instinct telling her that she was off the hook, but her brain still not catching onto how it could have been so easy.

"Ruby!" Granny snapped, having come to stand next to her. 

When Ruby turned back, her grandmother was gesturing toward the table and its lonely, barely touched, cup. And the Benjamin Franklin bill tucked next to it. 

"Why is Gold giving you a hundred dollar tip for a cup of lousy, watery coffee?"

Ruby cringed. No wonder he had all but spit it back out. "No idea, Granny," she half-lied, because she honestly wasn't sure. (It could be a bribe to ensure no one found out that Belle liked it rough.) "Probably his way of telling us to get the good stuff." (Or that the wife of the feared Dark One _hadn't_ been the one pressed up against the wall... and loving it.) "Who knows with him?"

Granny sniffed. "Odious man."

Ruby thought of her friend, and the fond - sometimes smug - expression Belle always wore when she mentioned her husband. Belle would know that a bribe had not been necessary to guarantee Ruby's silence, so Ruby could take it with a free conscience. She had nothing to prove. "He has his good points," she said, thinking that Belle had spoken in her favor, and Gold had listened.

A snort of incredulity was her grandmother's answer.

Folding the bill before pocketing it, Ruby grinned.

She wouldn't go as far as to claim that Gold was a good man. He'd been too fast to include himself as a monster. But maybe he could be a decent one after all?

 

The End  
08/10/16


	40. Priorities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: ❝i couldn’t care less. i’m with you right now, that’s all that matters.❞

Fists banged at the pawnshop door. Even in the backroom, Belle could hear as someone jiggled the doorknob, trying to force it open. Having recognized Emma's voice, it was a safe assumption to believe that the scratches against the metal were her attempt to break in.

But the door would open only to someone of Rumpelstiltskin's blood.

Luckily, Baelfire understood the situation enough not to try unless the world was falling around their ears (in which case, the Charmings would have gotten their audience anyway). Henry also wouldn't try, at least not after the conversation his grandfather had with him the last time.

Which left David and his family no option but to continue knocking.

At least they weren't hollering Rumpelstiltskin's name outside, having finally learned that the incantation only tugged at the Dark One's attention, and whether to attend to it or not was entirely his choice.

But that was still quite the racket.

Sleep forgotten, Belle let out a sigh. "Shouldn't we...?"

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head.

With a roll of her eyes, Belle rose from the cot he'd upgraded in both size and comfort since she'd taken to spending the occasional afternoon - and sometimes a midday nap - with him. "It could be important," she told him as she joined him at the table, leaning over his shoulder to watch as he fiddled with the stubborn insides of an antique watch.

"And yet," he said drily, not taking his eyes away from his work, yet leaning into her touch when she stroked his cheek with the back of her hand, "I couldn't care less."

She run her knuckles over his lips, giggling when he obligingly dropped a kiss on them. "What has you so interested, that you'll leave royalty waiting?"

The answer, apparently, was not work.

One arm came to wrap around her waist, while the other laid the watch down with care. That done, he hauled her against him, one corner of his mouth lifted in a playful grin. "Why, my dear, I'm with you right now. That's all that matters."

Belle threaded her arms around his neck, pulling her husband into a deep kiss.

If the Charmings really needed them, they could follow instructions and call in like the good neighbors they were supposed to be.

(Though, if they insisted with the mannerless banging, Belle would turn her and Rumple's cells off. Rumpelstiltskin would know if their help was actually needed, and given the interest he was giving to the buttons of her blouse, Belle felt confident they could sit out whatever trouble was brewing outside.)

 

The End  
01/09/16


	41. Behind Locked Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Cozy Coffee at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/683541.html?thread=89974805#t89974805). Prompt: **Behind Locked Doors**.

Her only excuse, Emma decided later, was that never in a hundred years would she have expected such an scenario. To be tossed right across the street if she knocked on the back door of the pawnshop, sure; Gold liked his privacy and he wasn't shy about protecting it. Even being turned into a small - and possibly slimy - critter was a possibility, though Emma doubted Gold would do that to his grandson's mother.

Not right in front of said grandson, at least.

Which was the reason it had seemed so sensible to let Henry go ahead and be the one Gold would see first.

Only two people could get away with ignoring the 'Closed' sign on the main street window and coming round back to ambush the Dark One. But Belle had already closed the library and was nowhere to be found, and Neal had teamed with her parents to try the Golds' house in the outskirts of town.

Her parents had claimed experience storming the Dark One's castle, but they'd glanced at each other worriedly when Neal asked pointedly whether his father had ever seemed surprised by their incursions. After a moment's thought, they had been quick to accept Neal's offer.

Even the nastier spells set up around Gold's house would be keyed to let Neal through.

In the meanwhile, Emma had driven back onto Main Street. Since Gold had been decent enough not to riddle public space with his traps, the pawnshop was the next best option, even in the middle of the night.

Surely even Gold would understand, given the circumstances.

After all, it _was_ an emergency.

And it _was_ his grandson. 

Emma wouldn't go as far as to say that Henry was a soft spot in his grandfather's heart, but she'd seen enough of that father-son reunion in New York to understand that _Neal_ was. Gold had tried the impossible to win back his son's approval, and wouldn't risk their fragile relationship.

Neal loved Henry, therefore Henry was safe from the more vicious side of Gold's temper.

That was why Emma had deliberately slowed her stride when she saw the light coming from under the door. It was a very weak light - candlelight? - but enough to signal that someone was inside despite the late hour and the drawn curtains.

It took the creak of furniture in the background to make her realize what she was about to walk into.

What she was letting _Henry_ walk into.

Her old job had entailed enough stake-outs outside motels and secret love nests to realize that this was not the setting for a store owner catching up with paperwork. _Oh no. No, no, no, no..._. 

"Stop!" she hissed. Reached out to grab Henry's shoulder and yanked him back before he could knock.

Henry glanced up at her, startled. "Mom?"

"Not now, kiddo," she said, dropping her voice as low as she could make it.

With any luck, neither of the occupants of the backroom would notice their presence. Because risking Gold's anger was a fact of life in Storybrooke, but nothing that couldn't be solved with a few fireballs and a judicious use of Neal as a human shield.

Charging into such an embarrassing situation, on the other hand, was something Emma deeply desired to avoid. She'd come too close on several occasions, and that had already given her too personal an insight into the Golds' love life.

The strange spell at the town border would still be there in daylight. It could wait. And if anyone had a problem with her decision, they were welcome to trample in where Saviors refused to tread.

"But-" Henry said, tugging on her hand.

Emma shook her head. "We'll come back," she promised. "Better to handle this on a night's sleep, don't you think?"

Henry gave her a look of disbelief. She couldn't blame the kid. Hadn't she been the one to move for the stronger magic users to be roused as soon as possible? "Someone's in there!" he whispered back, pointing. 

"I know," Emma gritted out. "But it's not a good time, okay?"

Henry frowned. Then turned to glance at the closed door with a shrew look. "Ah...." His cheeks colored, but thankfully there weren't any more questions. "Right. Um. Later."

Exactly. Some things were best left behind locked doors.

With a sigh of relief, Emma hurried back to her car. She'd text Mary Margaret with an update, and knowing her parents, they'd probably wait in their car for Gold and Belle to come back home. Then she'd call Neal and ask him to stop by the pawnshop as early as he could, just in case Gold wasn't planning to come back home at all.

That had been too close.

"Never again," she muttered to herself.

Next time, she'd trade with Regina. Facing two surly dragon ladies with a grudge against her sounded like a walk in the park in comparison.

 

The End  
19/03/16


	42. Ice Skating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @ethereal-wishes. Prompt: Ice Skating

Rumpelstiltskin had spent the first ten minutes watching anxiously over the rink, sure that at any moment he'd have to whisk his wife back onto safe ground and do some quick healing of a turned ankle or a deep bruise before she could protest.

But Belle, clumsy Belle, the same Belle who slipped off ladders and tripped on air when barefoot, was as confident on ice skates as she was on her favorite five-inch-high heels.

He watched her slide on the ice, chasing after his son and grandson in an impromptu game of tag. Henry had spent the better part of winter throwing off hints about how much fun it would be if the pond a few minutes from his house iced over, and Rumpelstiltskin had finally given in when Emma had pointed out that Ingrid would be happy to do them a favor if she asked.

If someone was going to use magic on his grounds, it was _not_ going to be that ice-witch.

Besides, his compliance had been worth Bae's grateful face and Belle's tight hug. If he'd known that Belle would take to ice skating this easily, he'd have done this a long time ago.

He probably would have done it back in the Enchanted Forest, too, and given some inane speech about why maids needed some physical activity that didn't include dusters or mops.

He'd been a fool for her, even then.

He still was.

He smiled at that thought, glad that Belle didn't mind.

"You are having fun," said Emma suddenly from her spot at his side, eyebrows arched in surprise. "I thought you'd be grumpy after Belle abandoned you."

Emma had been on the ice for a short time, but had traded in her skates for a pair of boots after the third time she'd fallen on her butt. (Apparently the Savior could leap off cliffs and face off dragons, but a patch of ice defeated her.) Belle had been quick to claim the discarded skates, and after giving him a kiss and a whispered plea to play nice with the mother of his grandson, tottered off onto the ice where Henry and Baelfire had welcomed her with hoots of encouragement and advice.

Unlike Emma, Belle did listen.

She had spent a few minutes with her hand on Bae's shoulder, as her body got used to the lack of friction in the new ground. Then it had been Henry's turn to attempt a lesson on twirls, which had somehow degenerated into their current shouts of 'you're it!' and 'now _you_ are!'.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled. "If your definition of abandonment is to take the chance to investigate a new hobby, then I fear for your relationships, dearie."

Emma scowled. "I was kidding," she grumbled. Then she narrowed her eyes. "And my relationships are none of your business."

Rumpelstiltskin gave a shrug. He wouldn't shed a tear if this woman proved too stubborn to accept his son's suit. "As you say," he said easily, then returned to watch the shenanigans on the ice.

Now it was Henry's turn to catch the others, and he was laughing as he tried to go after Belle. Belle was not making it easy, and her lack of experience actually helped her as her uneven pace made Henry miscalculate and shoot off in the wrong direction.

Once more, after another attempt joined by a sound that resembled a war cry, the boy blinked in disbelief as he ended up feet away from his quarry.

Belle just winked.

Rumpelstiltskin laughed.

Emma laughed too. "She's good," she commented, giving the trio a fond look. Then she snickered. "Bet that she has you out there before the week is out."

Rumpelstiltskin just gave her an unblinking look, turning back to the happy scene before them without a word.

He ignored her eye roll and her grumble about 'dry sticks in the mud'.

Emma didn't understand his silence, and frankly he hadn't expected her to.

Of course Belle would ask, and of course he'd say yes.

But the less proof the his wife had the Dark One wrapped around her little finger, the better.

 

The End  
16/08/16


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @loves-a-good-story asked: Rumple & Henry bonding <3

Henry paused in the scrubbing of yet another mysterious object that had no description attached and, when asked about its origins, his grandfather had taken a look, winced, and decreed that he didn’t need to know. Further questions had been ignored, leaving the room silent except for their work, to the point that Henry wondered why he’d accepted to come today.

After another five minutes of nothing more interesting than watching the dull spots of the ancient - and surely wildly interesting! sword, Henry turned to the other occupant of the work table and gave a good show of a yawn.

His grandfather barely flicked his eyes in Henry’s direction.

Henry let out a sigh. “You know, Grandpa. When Dad said the two of us should get to know each other better, I’m sure this is not what he had in mind.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked up at that. Grinned. “On the contrary,” he said, “Bae knows from experience that doing chores together is a perfect bonding activity. The two of us spent many a morning straightening out our home when he was your age.”

Henry smiled at that tidbit of his father’s youth. Neither he not his grandfather were prone to bring up that time, and Henry understood that they preferred to focus on the future but it was still nice to have another piece about their history. “Bet there was more talking, though,” he said anyway.

His grandfather shook his head. “Not really. Besides, I’ve learned a bit more about you just by spending time in the same room, working on similar tasks.”

Henry’s eyes rounded in surprise. “You have?”

“Oh yes.” A chuckle. “You have never polished as much as a candlestick in your life, but you picked up on your own how not to leave smudges behind. It irritated you in the beginning, but instead of asking me for help, you kept trying until you got it right. Like your independence, don’t you?”

Henry looked away, a little unnerved. He’d been expecting a more lighthearted observation, not a read into his character. “It wasn’t like it was hard, and you seemed busy without me asking how to do it the right way.”

His grandfather’s face gentled. “I’m never too busy to help you, Henry.” He rose from his feet, and took the few steps around the table. Henry reflectively stood up, smiling a little as his grandfather’s hand first tapped his shoulder and then drew him into a loose hug. “There. Is this bonding enough?”

Henry laughed a little.

His grandfather released him, still smiling. “What do you say we wrap this up and head out to get some ice cream?”

“Sure! But Grandpa,” Henry said, drawing himself to his full height.“you do remember I’m not ten and easily bribed with sweets anymore, right?”

His grandfather gave him an unimpressed stare. “Too old for ice cream, then?”

Henry’s eyes widened until he realized his grandfather was joking. “Nah,” he said. “Sounds perfect.”

And it was.

 

The End  
03/03/17


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whitesheepcpb asked: Belle & Neal, holiday

Belle stared at the dozens of bags strewn around every surface of the kitchen, trying to make her brain accept the fact that she had little more than eight hours to transform all the ingredients she and Bae had just put together into a Thanksgiving dinner for more than twenty people.

“Tell me again why I’m nuts,” she begged.

Baelfire smiled, shaking his head with amusement, and dutifully recited, “Let’s see: you fell in love with the Dark One and actually married the stubborn man; which means that through marriage now you’re kin to the Evil Queen and Snow White; the latter of which has a very broad concept of ‘family’ and, outside from her husband and kids, considers seven dwarves and a werewolf as her own siblings, and this includes Leroy’s bride and, of course, Granny herself - and, on top of your father and your friends, you invited all of them for dinner tonight!”

“Don’t sugarcoat it for me, Bae,” Belle said, taking a deep breath as she grabbed the first bag at hand and started unpacking in a rush, “tell me why I’m completely, utterly, no-salvation-available out of my mind!”

“Because, you crazy stepmother of mine, you magnificent woman, you—” Bae stopped at her glare, then moved to help her and continued with a grin, “Because you’re the maker of miracles, Belle, and there is no doubt that you will pull it off and this will be a night worth remembering.”

 

The End  
04/03/17


	45. Rainy Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @just-an-outlaw requested "Outside, the rain fell fast and furious."

Outside, the rain fell fast and furious.

Seated at the windowsill, the week's mending on her lap, Belle could barely make out the shape of the mountains in the horizon. Spring had always been a mild awakening of the earth in Avonlea, heralded by warmer breezes from the sea and a lively chatter in the market as farmers looked forward to bringing their wares.

Here in the Dark Castle, so far away from home, her small victory over the curtains seemed senseless now that the rain had started pouring... and pouring... and pouring. She had thought herself prepared to face the unfamiliar change of seasons after last year’s experience, but instead she found herself longing even more for the mild warmth of home this time of the year.

"Sighing your lungs out won't pull the thread through that needle, dearie."

Belle jumped a little at his sudden presence at her shoulder, then scowled when Rumpelstiltskin sniggered.

"Careful, careful!" he cautioned, his eyes giving away amusement despite the tone. "Haven't I told you about girls who pinch themselves on a needle?"

"A good night's sleep doesn't sound too bad," Belle told him, earning a raised eyebrow at her facetiousness. His tale of the princess cursed into sleep had made her shudder with horror, but Rumpelstiltskin would never share his stories if he didn't believe that Belle could handle their darker side. "I just mean the thunder will keep me up... again." She looked out the window, unable to lock away another sigh. "Until I arrived here, I only knew of these storms from stories."

Rumpelstiltskin put his hands over his cheeks, gasping in mock shock. "Something from your books that's not as good in real life?"

Belle glanced away, biting back a laugh at his theatrics. "See if you're still laughing when your breakfast is late tomorrow."

“Depends on what you burn down in the process.”

Usually she would have protested that the kitchen barely suffered one of her clumsy lapses anymore, but she didn’t find the good humor to engage him. “It will be all right,” she said simply.

Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head, having expected a more spirited response, and frowned as he studied her forlorn expression.

"What would you have me do, girl?" he asked, leaning closer and passing a hand over her work so the blue thread that had so stubbornly refused to pass through her needle now did so in the blink of an eye. Belle raised her head to thank him, but found him staring out as well, his expression as serious as it ever got. "Should I command the clouds to part and the moonlight to shine bright until dawn?"

Belle opened her mouth to tell him that was silly, and then realized it wasn't. Unless the boasts of the men she had known before him, Rumpelstiltskin never bothered to promise what he could not deliver. "No," she rushed out. "Of course not. It's just a bit of bad weather, it'll pass."

"It turns you melancholy." He gazed down at her, a strange expression flickering in his eyes. His hand moved into her line of sight, and for an instant Belle believed he would cup her cheek, but instead he clicked his fingers and inch away of her nose. He was grinning again. "Should I entertain you, then?"

Belle blinked at the offer, but nodded before Rumpelstiltskin could withdraw it. "Oh yes, please!" Wizard he might be, and so skilled in his trade that all in the Enchanted Forest would demand his help if they could afford his price. But for someone who had no use for his spells, his stories were his best asset. "Tell me a story from beyond the hat, something Jefferson wouldn't think to tell me."

"He's saving your ears from quite horrific tales, Belle."

"He confuses me with his daughter, and I trust that you wouldn't give me bad dreams."

This time his fingers did brush her hair, inky nails catching onto a loose tendril and setting it carefully behind her ear. "You're a very strange girl," he said, and Belle realized he had expected her to skitter away.

The Dark One's touch alone would be fuel for nightmares for any girl who didn't know him.

Belle smiled, bending over her work as if she had noticed nothing out of the ordinary. "Good," she told him. "Then I fit right where I am."

He laughed, a soft sound. Then he settled beside her, fingertips at the small of her back to push her into giving him room on her windowsill. A castle full of unused furniture, Belle thought, and he chose to invade her space.

Maddening man!

"A story it is, then!" he said quickly, stopping her complaint in the only way guaranteed to work.

Belle relented. It did feel nice, to have the heat of another person a few inches away. Selfishly, she wondered if this would become a normal occurrence during rainy nights - and if it did, was it wrong to hope that the seasonal storm would last a few weeks longer?

 

The End  
23/06/17


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: rule. Set in [The Long Haul](http://leni-ba.tumblr.com/post/148190144703/the-long-haul-masterlist). With [Riquet with the Tuft.](http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/perrault07.html)

The first rule of a successful audience in the Dark Castle was to accept that the Dark One’s will was absolute. After having a fairy’s whims shape his life from the cradle, Riquet had expected that.

(Knock. Knock. “Tea?”)

The second rule, Riquet’s quick brain ascertained, was not to protest when a maid interrupted the meeting and fearlessly broke the first rule.

(“Yes, you said no tea today. But, Rumple, you’ve got a guest now.”)

The third, most important rule was never to remark on the Dark One’s lie.

(“Who is she?” Riquet asked.

Rumpelstiltskin’s smile vanished. “No one important.”)


	47. S4A - Emma & Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joylee prompted: stapler

Emma had grown used to meeting Gold in his pawnshop or the laboratory in his basement, where magic thrummed overtly. This simple study, with bookshelves, cabinets and a desk covered in stacks of receipts and folders, was as bizarre an experience as walking into the Dark Castle the week before - or thirty-five years ago.

The sight of Gold organizing his paperwork, a stapler in hand and a hole punch close by, was more shocking than the otherworldly imp from the Enchanted Forest.

The impatient scowl, however, was the same.

“Anything the matter, Sheriff, or you’ve just come to gawk around?”


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @thatvermilionflycatcher asked ‘wood’.

“I still can’t believe this is your choice for a honeymoon destination,” said Rumpelstiltskin even as he followed his new wife out of the car. “The whole world, Belle, and you pick this?”

“I love it here,” she told him, taking his hand to lead him to the door. “A wise man once said that a cabin in the woods was perfect for us.”

“Because that’s where monsters take the women they’ve stolen away.”

“So he was a bit foolish too.” Belle laughed. “But my answer still stands.”

Rumpelstiltskin smiled, remembering her words. “You can’t steal what comes willingly?”

“Exactly.”


End file.
